


Some things cannot be fixed

by explicitly_fandroid



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Dismemberment, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Porn With Plot, Trauma, Unconscious Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12997353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explicitly_fandroid/pseuds/explicitly_fandroid
Summary: Data is being kidnapped by the trader Kivas Fajo, who happens to be obsessive and sadistic, and things evolve (in a bad way).Why is there such pleasure in breaking a machine?Explicit and detailed narration of abuse/rape and its psychological/emotional and bodily results (in an android).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic! Comments are highly appreciated!
> 
> The story has not been beta’d and since I’m not a native speaker please go on and tell me if anything just really doesn’t fit with my choice of words. I mean it.
> 
> The story is based on the TNG episode s03e22 „The Most Toys“, which, ah, kindled my imagination.
> 
>  
> 
> The characters are not mine but Paramount’s.

Kivas Fajo was delighted by the look on the android’s face. For the first time its calm features showed a hint of concern and a deep failure to understand, as it watched its uniform dissolve from the liquid Fajo had spilled over its chest.

„Don’t worry, the solvent won’t harm your…,“ he condescendingly waved his hand, „skin.“

Data looked up at him, his expression - well, Fajo was not sure - was the android hurt? It couldn’t be, or could it?

This evolved into something so much more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. Fajo had wanted Data, for sure, as that glamorous gem it most certainly was. The moment he had heard of the artificial being - one of its kind! - he knew he absolutely had to have it for his collection. He had instantly known Data would be marvellous, his crown jewel, casually sitting in some minimalistic chair in Fajo’s show room, conversing about the wonders of the galaxy with guests who would hardly manage to bite down their jealousy. While meticulously planning Data’s abduction he had revelled in those thoughts and still couldn’t wait to meet his rivals to - once again - show them who knew best in their area of work. Palor, one of his long time competitors, would be arriving soon, and this would definitely be his deathblow.

Fajo grinned and pulled his concentration back into the room, back to his latest acquisition, which was still goggling at its disappearing clothes. Data lifted a hand, long pale fingers hovering over the destroyed fabric. It raised its head, watching, inspecting Fajo with a look on its face that indeed somehow resembled a hurt animal. Fajo gasped. Delicious.

By no means would he have guessed that Data would be so - unwieldy. Not at all the compliant tool Fajo had imagined it to be, the android showed all signs of what Fajo could only call passive resistance. It refused to do what it was told, wouldn’t wear the clothes Fajo had replicated for it and discussed his actions in an annoyingly moralistic way. Unbelievably complex for a mere machine.

The construction plans and specifications of Data he’d gotten his hands on clearly stated that the android had no abilities to produce and process emotions, still Fajo couldn’t deny that there was something behind those golden eyes. That thing clearly fought for its freedom and seemed quite distressed about the fact that its actions were futile. He didn’t understand too much about cybernetics, of what was possible or not, but would that behaviour not count as… showing feelings?

On any account Fajo was intrigued - he loved a good power game. And to be honest, life on board his ship with all his fearful and arse kissing subordinates was getting a bit tiresome and boring. His reign didn’t count for much, if there was no friction, did it? After their first encounters and being the man he was, Fajo had realised that Data would be different, would be a challenge, one he gladly accepted. And Fajo intended to make it a juicy one. Delicious warmness spread through his groin, kindled by the promise of satisfaction. He felt his dick twitch, but decided to take it slow, let it saturate him bit by bit.

„Personally, I’d be delighted to see you go around naked.“

He was thrilled as foreboding flickered over Data’s features. That machine did understand the position it was getting itself into.

He licked his lips. „I assume you have no modesty.“

Disintegration had by now reached Data’s armpits and larger decomposed rags fell to the floor, revealing a beautifully modelled chest of the same pale colour, decorated with tiny, almost golden nipples. He had known from the descriptions that Data was very realistic, but to see its body first hand was something completely different. Who was the genius who had designed this flawless creature? Fajo deeply thanked him in his mind. Sighing happily he settled on the red spiralled sofa in the middle of the room from where he could keep a good view of the android and its now exposed abs, as well perfectly shaped, making him… hungry.

He patted the one-piece he had designed for Data and smirked, „Well, now, let’s just forget about these clothes for a while and let me savour the view.“

* * *

Data was agitated. He had several analyses of the situation running at the same time, still none of them could tell him what Fajo was scheming. Him being naked in front of his kidnapper was not what he had planned for when he had refused to wear the clothes Fajo had brought him. His self-preservation routines produced tiny alarm signals as his programmes ran out of solutions, since every attempt to escape, to fight Fajo or to change the man’s mind had been in vain.

Data had tried to break the door, but it was too strong; he had attempted to overwhelm Fajo, but that „proximity-actuated field“ produced by the device on his belt had in turn overwhelmed Data. He had been hit by a strong force field, one that had a destructive effect on his brain, as Fajo had apologetically explained. It had in fact interrupted the positron flow and had him inoperative for a short while. Data would not delude himself: This device was built especially for him. His abduction had not been planned at short notice.

Data had also tried to reason with Fajo verbally, applying several different styles of communication in a difficult situation, but nothing would get through. His captor had turned out to be a highly eloquent opponent, discussing, whining, lying, openly admitting even that what he did was evil and wrong. Every algorithm was outsmarted, everything, every action Data tested, was somehow turned against him. Every pattern recognition failed. The man seemed to constantly slip through his fingers.

Data’s moral routines were sending continuous warning notices, classifying Fajo’s behaviour as abusive, malicious, and dangerous. 

Data found himself not able to handle the situation, something that unsettled and shook him deeply, since he was not used to being this helpless. Still trying to apply behavioural patterns, he observed Fajo closely, who was lounging on the sofa, waiting for the android’s uniform to completely dissolve.

Data decided to better adapt himself to this specific setting by writing a new interaction subroutine. On the _Enterprise_ he had developed a deep trust towards his colleagues and friends and had adjusted his interaction parameters accordingly, expecting goodwill on all sides. Here it seemed reasonable to change his operations to a more cautious base setting. His behaviour analyses would now primarily search for signs of deceit and malevolence, hopefully helping him in coping with this obscure situation.

Instantaneously he felt the difference in his main memory and basic functions. His breath minimally quickened, allowing his cryo fluid pressure system to cool his carcass down faster, his sight sharpened to let him take in even the smallest details in a mere glance. His whole body tensed, sending an electrical shiver through his limbs as he adjusted his stance.

To his dismay this caused a large chunk of residue to part from the rest, allowing an open view of his navel and genitalia. He heard Fajo taking a sharp breath and saw him leaning forward with a surprised and quite greedy expression on his face. This was not good.

Indeed, Fajo jumped to his feet, slowly coming towards him. Data backed away, trying not to get into the zone of the force field, by his movements causing more dissolved rags to fall from his body.

„Oh, yes, so sorry, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt, would we?“ Fajo grinned and turned off the force field, but kept a finger on the button.

By now Data stood with his back to the wall, having only remnants of his uniform left around his ankles and feet.

„You look good,“ Fajo breathed and let his eyes wander over Data’s exposed body.

Despite his rather awkward situation Data tried to retain his composure, holding Fajo’s gaze. With the forcefield gone he started analysing ways of getting out of the room again.

He decided to give rationality a last attempt and stated, „Fajo, you are violating my personal rights. I inform you that I have been ruled by a Federation Court to be no property. By acting as if you owned me, you commit a crime against Federation law and you will be charged accordingly when Captain Picard hears of it. I demand that you let me go back to the _Enterprise_ now. I will defend myself if you insist on keeping me here. By no means will you touch me.“

Fajo laughed heartily, „Data, Data! This is not the Federation, silly!“

His smile collapsed and in one swift motion he was face to face with the android, baring his teeth. Data was pressed to the wall as the destructive energy of the force field came back on and hit him with all its might. His sensors shrilled and all he could do was helplessly staring at Fajo through half closed eyelids as all his kinetic functions were paralysed.

„Listen to me, once and for all,“ Fajo spat at him, „the _Enterprise_ won’t come back for you, never again, I made sure of that. They think you’re smashed, destroyed in a shuttle accident, positronic debris in space. No one will come to save your pale arse. You are mine now, you will stay here and serve my pleasure, do you understand? Believe it or not…“

Data was out.


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping back Fajo watched the android tumble to the ground. If you knew how, it was relatively easy to handle. He grinned. The rest of the uniform had dissolved by now and he marvelled at his luck, his sheer luck to obtain such a beautiful piece. It lay there in all its flawless, pale nudity, so vulnerable and exposed.

„Pure beauty,“ Fajo whispered and felt his heart pumping against his chest.

Data came to and stiffly sat up, disoriented at first, aligning its gaze until it settled on Fajo. It cocked its head but otherwise remained silent. Maybe he finally _had_ made an impression.

„Can you hear me?“ Fajo asked, clicking his fingers in Data’s direction, getting a calm nod in response.

He sighed, shaking his head and putting on a concerned look, „Really, you are a stubborn little robot. This is not good for your brain, why don’t you realise that?“

He shifted his weight and let measured acid run through his voice. „Face it Data, you have no chance whatsoever. Your constant acts of false morality and disobedience earn you nothing. On the contrary, let me promise you this: you’ll seriously regret that disobedience quite soon. I have been friendly with you, believe it or not. But I can be different and I will be.“

He picked up the clothes meant for the android, which was still sitting on the ground and hadn’t moved a bit. Inwardly he squealed, it was just too adorable in the way it didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend what was happening to it.

Drunk by the sorrowful look in its eyes he winked, „You amuse me, and that’s fine. It is what I wanted after all. I will find ways to make you compliant and Data, do believe me: I will love to watch you break.“

* * *

Data stared as Fajo took the clothes with him and left the room. He had trouble understanding why his captor would go to such lengths as to destroy his uniform so that he would have to wear different clothes and then take those very clothes away again.

His systems were still upset from the latest assault. The force field was definitely harmful and it would be advisable to not give Fajo reason to use it too much. Data ran a quick diagnosis to check if he had obtained any serious damage. Minor fluctuations in his neural flow, nothing Geordi would not be able to fix.

The thought of the engineer though provoked some new upheaval, since the probability of being rescued by a crew that thought of him as being positronic debris in space was at 11.68 per cent, not very convincing. Would they really not question his destruction? Would he actually have to stay here with Fajo and no chance of getting out?

A portion of his processes was occupied by analysing the way Fajo had reacted to his exposed body. The look on his face, when he had first seen Data’s genitalia, had registered as being one of desire and lust. Combining the evidence of his captor’s overall behaviour Data came to the conclusion that there was a high possibility of Fajo being sexually interested in him. That was something Data would not allow to be pursued.

However it was crucial to be aware of the threat Fajo was posing to him. His captor had clearly stated that he meant ill and he possessed the technological equipment to seriously harm him. Since Data’s behaviour analyses were still failing at formulating a thorough assessment, thus rendering him unable to react specific to the situation, it would be most commendable to be careful and not to irritate the man.

Data scanned the room, taking in what would perhaps be his home for a longer period of time.

„I will not break,“ he said, and his memory banks were unable to decide who the addressee of this statement was supposed to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Data closely inspected Dalí’s painting. 

He had developed an interest in surrealist art, since it often seemed to depict a failure in maintaining emotional stability. He also knew that _The Persistence of Memory_ had been reported stolen in 2358 and his newly written scripts made him suspect that he and this painting were not the only pieces of Fajo’s collection that were obtained illegally. Data tried to analyse the technique of the brush strokes but could not seem to hold on to that activity for very long.

He had noticed a rather unsettling behaviour in the way information was processed in his brain since this third and severe hit by the force field. The positronic links seemed to - stutter, inducing shifts of attention Data had not been initialising. A „hiccup“, he thought, and decided to be proud of himself, though without the presence of Geordi he would have no possibility to discuss the accuracy of his use of metaphor. He stored the question for later and turned to analyse the second mention of the engineer in 22 minutes, 41 seconds.

He knew it was futile, but nevertheless ran another evaluation of the possibilities of being rescued by the crew of the _Enterprise_. Of course the numbers were worse with the passing of time, how could they be better? Had he been acting out of „false hope“? That would be interesting to study further, since he perceived such behaviour as very human, again he saved the experience for later discussion.

Scanning the room without purpose, he attested himself to be - preoccupied.

In addition to the unsettling stutter of his systems his modesty routine - yes, he did possess that - sent him constant reminders to put on clothes, which he could not do, since there were none.

Comparing his situation with his data banks of examples of human behaviour he was sure that his carbon-based friends would certainly be terrified, had they been in his place. The removal of clothes in front of an ill-meaning adversary bore a strong connotation to helplessness, humiliation, vulnerability. He felt exposed and wished for something to cover himself up with.

The modesty reminders got more frequent as two of Fajo’s subordinates entered Data’s prison and started to work on something in one of the opposite corners of the room. They threw him a few glances now and then, otherwise not answering his questions or other attempts to start a conversation. Data had tried to make contact and federalise with some of Fajo’s employees before, but to no avail. They were all well trained and the fear of the merchant was palpable in their actions so that Data eventually terminated this strategy. He resorted to solely watching the two but did not go near them since, of course, they were also equipped with that damaging force field. He tried to identify what the two were working on from afar, but at the time they left the room he still had no idea. A thorough investigation of the area showed nothing that could tell him anything. 

His interest returned to the painting.


	4. Chapter 4

When Fajo returned, this time together with his partner Varria, who had also proven to be immune to Datas approaches, Data was feeding and talking to the Lapling. He immediately stopped and turned around to have Fajo in full view.

„Oh,“ Varria whispered, „the android is quite… well built. Is it also - functional?“

„That’s something you would certainly want to know, right,“ Fajo looked quite pleased and tapped his chin with one finger. Data retreated behind the spiral sofa keeping an eye on him as he went on, „Varria, stay here for a second, can you see the whole room? Good.“ He handed her a phaser and pointed at Data. „If it starts something disable it.“

Data noticed that Fajo was carefully manoeuvring Varria into the corner his subordinates had worked on. The stutter in his positronic flow increased and his neck tilted twice while he tried to process what was going on. Without anything in particular happening the situation had seemed to change, making his new subroutine send tiny undirected warning signals.

Taking a few steps towards Data Fajo pressed a button on the device at his belt, whereupon the buzzing of a force field flashed behind his back, capturing Varria. „Kivas?“ She asked and Data registered a spark of panic in her voice. Fajo shrugged his shoulders, throwing an apologetic look at Data, and turned around, sweetness dripping from his tongue, „Sorry, my dear, I forgot to inform you about my plans for the evening.“ He dismissively waved in her direction upon her lifting the phaser, „It doesn’t work, never has,“ and turned back around, smiling at Data, „she still serves me well, you’ll see. Now, Data, I would very much like our relationship to… change. I must admit, I don’t really understand your agenda. What’s with all that refusal? I have you in my collection now, the _Enterprise_ is long gone, your military career is over, why not concentrate on something else! New setting, start a different programme or whatever you do, make the trouble I faced for getting you pay off! You surely don’t have feelings that could be hurt, so why don’t you just relax and follow my commands?“

He pressed the fingertips of both hands together, contemplating over them as if they were part of a complicated problem. Then he faced Data again, his face suddenly pained. „But you won’t, I reckon. And it aches my heart that I have to adjust to your… stubbornness, this is just not my style. Obedience on your side really would’ve made things easier for everyone, please understand, I just don’t know how to go on with you! I am a peace-loving person, now see what you force me to do!“

And with a sad shake of his head he pressed another button. The phaser clattered to the ground as Varria grabbed her head and let out a pained wheeze. Her eyes went wide with shock and disbelieve. „Kivas,“ she gasped, „what…“ she coughed and a low howl was forming in her chest.

„Poor thing,“ Fajo stated and hold his cheek, „this must hurt terribly.“

Upon realising that Fajo would without second thoughts seriously wound Varria to force him to comply, Data noticed a rush of electricity flowing through his pathways which made his face wince for a second. His moral programmes interfered with strength, positioning the well-being of Varria temporarily above his own. He had to act.

Data clearly understood how he was about to fundamentally change the choreography established between him and his captor and how that would be to his utter disadvantage. Ignoring the screaming alarms and the statistics about unpredictable dangers flooding his systems he bypassed several of his self-preservation routines and even aborted a few.

„Fajo,“ he said expressionlessly, „I will obey.“

* * *

A happy snicker escaped Fajo and he wiggled his fingers as the android’s last sentence reverberated in his groin. That was what he had wanted to hear. He relished the sight of that perfect body, standing and waiting, ready for his use.

„Data, you’re easily impressed indeed! But let’s not disappoint you.“ And he switched off the pain inducer. Varria stopped whining and seemed to relax a bit, panting and holding her head, flashing Data a quick and tortured glance. Oh, smart thing, of course she’d already realised her unpromising situation, depending on that machine. He sent a smug smile in her direction and turned to Data, which hadn’t moved. Fajo was certain he had it cornered. Warmth spread through his body, he had waited so long for this moment.

Strolling over to the android, which eyed him carefully, he stated, „Don’t fear, Data, I have turned off my force field, if you comply I won’t have to hurt neither you nor Varria. And that’s what you want, right? You care for all life, you said so yourself. Now Varria’s really is in your hands, I think that is something you can process?“ Data nodded. „Now, Data, listen to me. You will not resist. You will do as I say. You will not hurt me, or Varria dies.“ A groan from behind the forcefield. „Do you understand?“ Again, a nod, otherwise calmness. „Repeat.“ The android’s head twitched and its eyes moved as if they were looking for something only it alone could see. „What do you wish me to repeat?“ It asked. Fajo bit his lips and shook his head, „Repeat what I just said. So I can see that you understand.“ Again twitching its neck - that had to indicate some processing Fajo assumed - it began, „Now Data, listen to me. You will not resist.“ Fajo slapped its face, effectively interrupting the farce (though it hurt a bit).

For a short moment he let himself dive into the electrifying feeling of that act. To see it quickly shut its eyes when the hit came, see its composed face fly to the side, oh, this was good, and worth a little sting.

„Are you making fun of me?“ He hissed, glaring at the expressionless face. „Or are you really that slow? Repeat. What I said. In. Your own words. Is that so hard to decode?“ He pressed his thumb to the android’s forehead.

Data blinked a few times, then repeated quietly, „I will not resist. I will do as you say. I will not hurt you, or Varria dies. I understand.“

„Good,“ Fajo breathed, „so let’s get to the more pleasant things, now that we’ve established some common ground.“

He gave Data the most innocent smile and let his fingers run along the side of its face.

„Now, let’s examine my new piece, so I can finally see what I got me here.“

* * *

Fajo started probing his upper body, tracing the ridges of artificial muscles and plucking at his bioplast. He kneaded his pectorals and let out continued little statements of admiration. Placing an ear to his chest he searched for Data’s heartbeat then picked up one of his hands to examine the slender fingers. He marvelled at his fingernails and crowed at the lunulae.

Being this thoroughly examined made Data deeply uncomfortable. At the beginning he cautiously followed Fajo’s every movement, but after 6.182 minutes turned to concentrate on his ruby coloured and richly decorated outfit instead, when he found the greedy expression on his captor’s face increasingly hard to bear. It was probably due to his absorption in the curved golden brooch on Fajo’s chest or to the overall chaos of his protesting programmes that he did not immediately notice the impending danger. However, when the realisation hit him and he felt Fajo’s hand linger on his power switch, he knew that it had already been there for a few seconds, probing the structure.

„What is that?“ Data stood utterly still, hoping Fajo would lose interest.

What he didn’t, instead, behind the forcefield Varria gagged. Data flashed her a glance, finding her tormented and on her knees.

Being aware that he was hopelessly trapped by his basic principle to respect life and ultimately forced to continue acting in favour of his increasing damage he terminated more of the scripts that steered his resistance, warnings screaming inside his body.

„Fajo,“ he intervened, „what you feel is my deactivation switch.“

This was so against his self-preservation routines, it started to take its toll on his circuits. Data found his own behavioural patterns to be increasingly disturbed due to the now constant and system-wide power fluctuations. Was this an equivalent to fear? It was most reasonable. Under the given circumstances the experience of anxiety would suggest itself.

„A kill switch?“ Fajo squealed, at least letting go of Varria, „whose perverted idea was that?“ He fumbled his way around the switch some more and Data turned to begging, deeply concerned, „Fajo, please do not deactivate me, I do not wish to be switched off.“

And then his systems went haywire, multiple internal alarms ringing, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. His neck twitched uncontrollably. He had not faced this part of the room a second ago, and his internal chronometer informed him that, in fact, it was not a second ago, but he had just missed 4 minutes, 12 seconds and 36 nanoseconds.

„You have deactivated me, turned me around and activated me again,“ Data managed to state despite the turmoil his entire system just went through.

„Your spatial perception is admirable, Data,“ Fajo sneered, and Data had no difficulties in detecting the sarcasm in his voice. Breathing deeply to cool down his subsystems he executed a brief check, which showed that apparently no greater harm had been done. A quick glance over his shoulder informed him that in addition to that Varria was safe for now. Concluding that this could have been worse, Data still understood that his prospects were quite alarming.

There was no misapprehension, he was at the utter mercy of a deeply sadistic, unpredictable and frightening person.


	5. Chapter 5

Running a heavily ringed finger smoothly over the characteristics of Data’s face, Fajo breathed in the beauty of this strange creature, following its eyebrows and marvelling at the almost white lashes, while he felt the golden irises resting on him. It couldn’t deceive him, by now he had decided that there definitely was more to the android than it showed. A hint of anxiety flickered in those beautiful eyes, making the pupils dilate slowly and the artificial breath of the machine sound brittle. It was a truly luxurious experience.

He smiled and bit his lower lip. Finding that deactivation switch had been a fine stroke of luck and he could tell that it had seriously destabilised the android. That in addition to the threat of hurting Varria had finally gotten through to it and seemed dispiriting enough for now.

He decided to take his time again, relishing his compliant toy the way it felt best.

What was it thinking, Fajo wondered, what meant his touches to this machine, was it capable of feeling them?

Taking Data’s chin in one hand he gently turned its head to inspect an interesting and somehow fragile looking ear. The tiniest application of pressure was enough to bring Data’s face back to him, the powerful creature was completely following his lead now.

And powerful it was. Merely reading the specifications had made him dizzy. And now he bathed in the experience of this mighty but oh so docile body in front of him, under his control, pliable under the touch like a well tuned instrument. It felt so good.

With one finger slowly tracing the outer line of Data’s lips he said, his voice being surprisingly low and husky, “That’s it, Data, be a good robot for me. You’re behaving very well.“

For a fracture of a second those golden eyes fell from his face and he felt arousal throbbing in his throat. His cock reacted and he welcomed the rush of adrenalin the taste of power sent through his body. Carefully he parted the android’s lips and pushed his fingers against its firmly set teeth, and after an almost non noticeable delay it let its jaw become slack and opened up under Fajo’s fingers, finally averting its eyes.

„Good,“ Fajo whispered into its ear and, holding its lower jaw with his thumb, started gently prodding the thick and slightly wet tongue. A curious feeling, since it was _almost_ like a real tongue.

„Suck,“ he ordered and felt the warm mouth gently close around his fingers, the tongue carefully moving around them. His gaze seemed to tunnel in on Data’s face as he lifted his hand, making its mouth and head follow his motions. The android had closed its eyes. Fajo breathed deeply and rejoiced in the trail of saliva that was leaking out between Data’s working lips.

This was his possession, he realised with his organs contracting, this was his.

* * *

The smell of the other man’s arousal was palpable, it surely did not need his enhanced olfactory sense to detect that. But it caused his newly written caution programme to stutter some more, the course this encounter was taking was absolutely not promising.

Data was very relieved when Fajo decided to take his fingers out of his mouth again, though he still had them resting on his lips, dripping warmth and wetness. The experience had been highly disturbing and confronted Data with a sense of shame, a strong aversion to be seen by Fajo while he was sucking on his hand. It had him close his eyes, a gesture that was challenged by several scripts as being too much a loss of control. Now he stared at his captor, cooling his systems, trying to calm down the multiple internal outbursts.

He knew what Fajo did to him was not allowed and a grave violation of his personal rights, and with all its might his legal subroutine told him so, initialising all sorts of defence mechanisms. Still the prospect of Fajo hurting Varria had his moral programmes reacting in quite the opposite way, working hard in turn on suppressing every act of resistance his legal and self-preservation scripts suggested. The conflicting programmes resulted in numerous minor deadlocks, which sent his body into an awkwardly rigid state in which all he could do was follow Fajo’s actions. The increasing ambiguity and undecidability of his current situation let to strings of minor system failures and in their wake to a growing pile of maintenance requests. It was highly objectionable and Data became seriously worried for his systemic integrity.

Fajo had now turned to feel his way down Data’s neck, admiring his collarbones. Careful fingertips fluttered over Data’s skin and rested tentatively in his suprasternal notch, causing him to gasp.

Fajo froze and then stepped back, giving him an incredulous look. „Did you just… gasp?“ He stuttered, for a second thrown out of his carefully executed performance.

Data closed his eyes, wanting to shut out the situation. He nodded.

„Why would you do that? Was that… out of arousal?“ Fajo prodded. „I thought you were not… I thought you… does this… turn you on?“

And he was back, fingertips on his throat like tiny raindrops, his face only centimetres from Data’s.

Who had to nod again, staring wildly into his captor’s eyes now.

There was no avoiding the truth, nowhere to hide, since Fajo was right and highly able to realise so. Despite the utter baseness of the situation, despite all his defence mechanisms telling him that this was wrong! so wrong!, his sexual routines had just set to work, reacting on the delicate contact of Fajo’s fingers. As a result Fajo’s touch had indeed… turned him on.

He concentrated on keeping a level voice, „Your observation is correct. My system has obviously filed your… advance as erotic behaviour although I must inform you that I do not approve of that. Nevertheless my sexual subroutines have reacted to the - contact of your fingers and are prompting the appropriate responses, notwithstanding that I do not interpret this as an appropriate or consensual situation. Which is why I would ask you to stop and allow my systems to settle.“

Fajo stared at him with wide eyes, „If you don’t like it, why do you gasp? Shut down your… sexual routines - seriously now? sexual routines? - shut them down, if you don’t like what your body does. Surely you must be capable of controlling your programmes, android?“

Data’s neck twitched as he began to realise the danger he was getting himself into.

Wiping every hint of expression off of his face he calmly stated, „I unfortunately have not much control over my sexual algorithms and would prefer not to explore this further with you.“

„Yes,“ Fajo said, but obviously not answering Data’s request, „of course. I can’t even begin to fathom this.“ He softly stroked the skin beneath Data’s ears eliciting a gentle moan from him.

„The most advanced artificial life form blah-blah-blah, and you cannot even control your sex drive? Oh, my, thanks, that is hilarious! Data, I seriously question the decency of your creator, you know that? But I won’t complain, this is quite beneficial, don’t you think?“

Data had sometimes asked himself why Dr Soong had decided to give his sexual programming so much intensity and autonomy and Data so little possibilities of interfering, once a specific script was running. It somehow seemed - unethical - and Data realised that right now, facing a man like Fajo, it would be an outright disaster.

Fajo was obviously very happy about this turn of events, eyes glowing and unable to contain a wide grin. He cupped his hands around Data’s face and looked him deep in the eyes, stared at him for seconds, breathing, until he seemingly had regained his composure.

He pulled Data’s head further in, until his lips brushed the android’s ears, sending electrical bolts through his brain, and whispered, „Data, here’s something for your…“ he let out a sensual moan, which pierced through Datas body and went directly to his abdomen, „… _sexual routines_ to process.“

And Data felt Fajo’s hand slowly slide down his front, lightly tapping his left nipple, circling his navel until it came to rest on his sensitive inner thigh, just millimetres from his penis, sending a delicate ripple over his skin and static shivers through his groin. A ragged breath left his mouth.

Fajo leant in and slowly placed his lips on Data’s, applying exquisite pressure and letting the tip of his tongue dance at the entrance of Data’s mouth. Data was unable to suppress another moan, which got caught between them, while Fajo pushed his tongue beyond Data’s teeth.

Data was filled, examined, tasted the wetness of the other. His head jerked back, but Fajo already had his hand on Data’s neck, lazily stroking it.

His other hand suddenly moved and pressed onto Data’s penis, making his hips buck into Fajo’s hand involuntarily. Data literally saw stars as jolts went through his carcass.

Unable to control and much less compute Fajo’s and especially his own actions, one of his self defence programmes started to shut down random processes. There was an ominous cracking sound in his left shoulder joint.

Terrified of the imminent danger and his contradictory reactions to it he shrank away and clasped his mouth.

„No,“ he whispered, sounding awfully rugged and pathetic in his own ears, „please do not do this. You do not have to do this.“

Fajo gently, almost lovingly removed Data’s hands from his mouth. He moved with him, eyes calculating, as Data tried to back away, his right hand still carefully applying pressure to Data’s penis. Which, to Data’s dismay, started to react.

„Stay still,“ Fajo commanded quietly, and Data complied, suppressing the urge to resist, shredding more files. His body temperature was 0.3 degrees Celsius above normal and his shoulder cracked again.

Fajo let his other hand slide down Data’s spine, halting for distressing 4.6 seconds at the deactivation switch, then moving on to survey the curve of his right buttock. He suddenly grabbed it and pulled Data to him, grinding his hips into his body and causing him to breathe in sharply.

By now Data could hardly make out anymore which command was produced by which programme. His inner workings seemed to be in total chaos, overlain only by these accursed sexual algorithms, which quite clearly had developed a life of their own.

„You like this, don’t you, Data,“ Fajo murmured into his ear, „though you seem to be conflicted, which makes it all the more delicious to me, I have to admit. You like how I touch you, isn’t it true? Don’t deny it, android, I can feel your cock moving under my hand.“

Data groaned as Fajo started stroking, and had to press his hips into Fajo’s hand.


	6. Chapter 6

„Yes,“ Fajo exhaled, „that’s it, android.“

He was enraptured by the twitching and writhing of that gorgeous synthetic dick in his hand.

Not in his wildest dreams about the machine he would have imagined something like this. But here was Data, exerting little sounds of pleasure while at the same time seeming rather terrified. At least that was what Fajo decided he could read in the android’s body language, its eyes following him nervously and hands fidgeting at its sides. Its cock was reacting so… _realistically_ , slowly getting stiffer and growing in his grasp, even producing some kind of wetness at its glans.

Fajo moved with discreet fingers, exploring every bioplast fold and encircling the head, delighting in Data’s small noises. How its face fell, lips slightly parted, eyes losing focus, the longer he played with it. Carefully he moved Data over to the sofa, guiding it backwards until it couldn’t go any further, then pushing a bit more and the android lost balance and abruptly sat down, letting out a sharp call of surprise. He was immediately over it, perfectly vulturous with quick flowing movements he pressed the android back into a lying position and knelt over it, never once losing touch of its dick or its neck.

Oh how he loved this, the consternation and realisation written all over its face, that pliable body under his hands. This beautifully vulnerable machine, open to him like a book he was about to rewrite. It felt glorious.

This was his.

He was sure now that it wouldn’t attempt further resisting in fear of risking Varria’s health, and would instead go on to follow his demands. And now he knew that it would luxuriously react on them, already displaying such sexual beauty it made Fajo’s heart race and his throat dry. This creature was so pure - it was as if he could see the stains from where his fingers had touched the android’s sheath.

He took a minute to free his throbbing erection from the restricting pants before continuing with stroking the android’s cock. A closer look at it made him inhale though, the fluid that was by now coating the pale shaft was of the most peculiar colour, like this creature was leaking liquid gold.

Utterly fascinated he raised his hand, sniffing at it, and then smearing some of that artificial golden juice over Data’s face, marvelling at the look of those quivering lips, covered with a tainted shimmer.

„Lick it,“ he whispered, and Data did so, collecting the gold with its tongue while closing its eyes.

„Are you ashamed?“ Fajo sneered, „I doubt it, android. Lift your legs.“

To his delight, it opened its eyes in shock, a low humming noise emerging from its breast. Nevertheless it only needed another enquiring look and Data raised its legs, looking away.

„Good boy,“ Fajo smiled and let his hands lightly run over the hollows of its knees. Then he grabbed them, pushing and spreading Data’s legs, until it presented all of its beauty. It moaned.

Collecting more of the golden semen, Fajo let it know how precious it was, how much of a treasure, literally, and started working the liquid into Data’s hole. Its body shook like it was electrified, as it perhaps was, letting out a most delicate and sensual sound, a deep fractured groan, almost a sob. It made Fajo groan himself, and his hearing was muffled as his world centred on his rising desire. He knew those were the sounds he would treasure and replay in his mind for a long long time.

He smiled at the despairing android, reached for his cock, letting its head rest on Data’s entrance for a few agonising seconds.

Their eyes met for a moment and his heart leapt and tumbled into the dread that shone up to him.

Data’s lips trembled wordless pleas and it slowly shook its head.

And Fajo pressed in.

It took his breath.

Tightness, oh so tight.

Tightness, wetness and warmth.

He pressed further, a deep groan emerging from his chest.

The android answered with a raw mechanical sound, a sensuous low scratch, that wound up into a desperate „no“.

Gone was its level voice, the calm appearance had vanished completely. What he felt under him, around him, was a breaking creature that was losing its hold.

It grabbed its face with fluttering, shaking hands, while the humming swelled, underlaying Fajo’s thrusts with a deep vibration.

„Data, Data,“ Fajo breathed, and covered its body with giddy touches, unable to focus, working himself into a slow and steady rhythm that felt oh so good.

* * *

His sexual programming meticulously recorded the penetration of his anus and sent sparks of electric lust through his carcass, accompanied by the screams of every alarm signal his systems could muster.

This was wrong. And dangerous. And utterly wondrous.

Data panted rhythmically while analysing Fajo’s cock inside of him. It filled him in a way he could not explain, making him strangely vulnerable. The force Fajo used pressed him into the sofa and drove the air out of his cooling system.

His attention seemed to zoom in on his anus, which was a weird way of losing control of his sensors.

His stereoscopic sensation was severely disturbed, and with his new subroutine jumping in, his visual and acoustic perception provided useless detail, the number of hairs in Fajo’s left eyebrow, the diameter of the tiny golden sphere on his brooch, the decibel of the smacking sound Fajo’s testicles made against Data’s skin. 

„Yes, Fajo, please,“ he groaned and clasped his mouth in horror.

Suffice it to say the loss of control over his sexual subroutine was absolute. It kept reacting to sensorial input in the worst possible ways. His modesty programme made him produce a low howl.

He had never before experienced such an existential crisis. The different purposes of his programmes, normally making him function in the exceptional way he was known for, now led to confusion and quite grave damage. His systems were confronted with several irresolvable problems and contradicting commands at the same time, which resulted in him pathetically lying there, being severely paralysed.

Something in his chest had obviously cracked and now produced this alarming humming sound, which seemed to excite Fajo even more. His shoulder was running hot, although he was not over-stressing it.

He definitely experienced some kind of shame related to his current situation. His own gasps sounded obscenely wrong in Data’s ear and several scripts tried to stop them, to no avail. He was very uncomfortable with the way he felt his head tossing and heard his voice stammering little encouragements, and wished for Fajo to not notice that. Also, of course, to no avail. His captor seemed to be very observant in matters of Data’s failing.

„Fajo,“ he panted, „please stop this.“ Fajo’s upper lip twitched and he pumped harder. „I do not wish to be… to be…“

„What?“ Fajo hissed, „say it, android.“

But all that came out was a sob. 

Data grabbed his head and bucked into his captor, urging him to go faster, while his systems produced error message after error message. He felt Fajo’s thumb on his lips. This time he could not stop himself from greedily opening his mouth, taking him in, sucking and playing, circling the finger with his tongue. Fajo grabbed his jaw and turned his face away and Data closed his eyes, shutting out the visuals, falling into lust. He felt a strand of saliva leaving his mouth as Fajo took out his finger, his tongue following it for a moment. Fajo thrust into him, still holding his chin, then lightly scratching over his throat. Data had to swallow and his hands searched for something to hold on to, as another series of sobs left his chest.

„Fuck me Fajo,“ he whispered, and noticed a single tear running into his hairline.

* * *

That almost made him come.

Fajo had to concentrate on going on for a bit longer, taking deep breaths, this was too precious to already finish.

He relished the picture of this slowly deteriorating machine, which apparently experienced different programmes desperately fighting for control. Something he could and most definitely should play with for a while longer.

Data very clearly reacted to physical stimulation, its cock was erect and hard, tapping on its abdomen every time Fajo pushed his dick into its arse. Its hole was tight and of an oily wetness, Fajo had to slowly withdraw his cock a few times and press back in just to feel the delicious slickness surrounding his shaft. The android’s eyes had lost focus as it moaned and moved its hips to let Fajo sink in deeper.

Fajo snickered and the words rolled over his tongue like honey. „Look at how you lie there, completely ruined, willingly taking me in, all wetness, gasping and begging your captor to fill you up. Data. Don’t you have any dignity?“

The android averted its eyes and Fajo’s heart was burning hot in his chest, just by looking at his tormented toy.

He carefully wiped the golden tear from the android’s temple and spread it onto its trembling lips, sighing, „Ah no, my bad, of course you don’t, how could you? You don’t feel dignity, you don’t feel shame. You’re only an android.“

Data’s shoulder made a dull cracking sound and its arm jerked into the cushion, its breast giving way to a low fractured sob. Fajo pursed his lips and thrust into it, now fast and aggressive, pressing Data into the sofa until it was wheezing, gasping and writhing underneath him. Its mouth was slightly open, its breathing irregular and he turned its chin until the creature was forced to look at him.

„Do you want more?“ He asked, letting his voice drop to a husky, deep tone, forcing himself into the pale figure.

Data’s eyes grew wide and it grasped its mouth again, trying to stifle its reaction. It shut its eyes and shook its head vigorously. And through its fingers, while being wracked by a row of convulsions of its shoulder, the android sobbed, „Yes please, take me… and fuck me… deep.“

* * *

Data was distraught.

The turmoil in his systems was reaching a dangerous speed.

He found himself trying to compensate, re-routing energy bursts and packing away incoming information anywhere he had memory capacity.

If he did not want his systems to overload, he needed something to distract him, to get him out of this hideous situation.

Searching his memory banks he came upon a conversation with Lieutenant Worf about anger management. Worf had informed him of his strategy to listen to Klingon opera in his quarters with turned up volume, whenever that incurable human benevolence became too much of a burden for his Klingon mindset. He had played one of his favourites for Data, _Aktuh and Melota_ , praising the composition and its abilities to distract him and ease his mind.

Data decided to give it a try, if the piece was able to divert a Klingon warrior’s anger, it could perhaps also be of service to a distressed android.

He found himself licking Fajo’s palm, while his captor mercilessly fucked him, elaborating in great length and graphic detail on how good Data’s interior felt.

I cannot be hurt, I am an android, Data thought, and clinging to this he watched Fajo’s mouth billow as the perfect memory of the famous Klingon opera swept his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Fajo immediately noticed that the android had gone somewhere else. It was at the same time more and less responsive, becoming soft and mouldable under his hands, and the painful struggling with which it had responded to his actions up to now ceased.

It drove him into bliss.

For now he would keep Data exactly like this, a pliable fuck toy, though in the future he would teach it to stay in the situation.

He bent down and whispered into the android’s ear, „I told you I would love to watch you break. There’s only so much resistance, you’re no exception.“ It moaned gently in response, not able to give a coherent answer.

That almost did it again and, following a feeling, Fajo pulled his dick out of the android’s hole. 

Carefully cradling the machines neck he pulled it into a sitting position and adjusted himself in front of it. Not counting on its capability to follow spoken orders he placed both his thumbs on Data’s lips and slowly pushed until its jaw was hanging loose. He caressed its forehead and cheeks, then put his throbbing cock against its lower lip.

„Taste me, android,“ he smiled, and forced his by now sizeable erection down Data’s throat.

And purely that was enough. He had been dancing on the edge for quite some time, barely able to hold in. Now with his view down at the calm, compliant and detached face, taking him in without so much as a wince, its humming body spread out like liquid on the sofa, he let his muscles contract, let his hips grind the android’s face, closed his eyes and came.

He pressed himself into Data’s mouth, panting, contracting, coming, spilling his fluids into it, which half sat, half lay there, just swallowing, and swallowing. It seemed to be back in the here and now, watching him with its sad golden eyes, until he finally held still, amazed at the feeling of his heartbeat pumping in his throat.

Letting out a satisfied sigh he eventually pulled out and collapsed into the android’s lap, his legs giving way underneath him. For a time he was satisfied with just sitting there, feeling the erect artificial dick against his slowly softening one. Data still emitted a faint humming sound and he closed his eyes and let himself float on it like on calm ocean waves, as time stretched.

When he opened his eyes again after a small eternity it was to the android silently watching him.

Following an urge he grabbed its head and violently kissed it, discovering a faint taste of himself in its mouth. He rejoiced in the way his toy answered his movements, following his tongue and letting out quiet moans. He pulled away and stared at it, the innocent yet shattered face, those knowing eyes, which gave away that they had seen too much.

„Data,“ he said, „that was wonderful. The way you feel, just wonderful. No offence,“ he smiled at Varria, who sat curled up with her back at the wall and watched them, dissociated. She flinched upon him addressing her and looked away. Fajo sneered and closed his eyes, he felt amazing like he hadn’t for months, filled with energy, radiating.

Cupping his hands around Data’s face he showered it with butterfly-like kisses.

„You were beautiful, Data, glorious. You should have seen yourself. Did you hear what you told me, did you listen to yourself? You’re lascivious, and then quite blunt, I have to say. I didn’t know you’d have that in you. How do you feel now?“

„I am an android, Fajo, I do not feel,“ it sounded tired, hollow somehow.

He laughed, „No, of course, you don’t,“ and patted its cheek.

* * *

The sentence reverberated in his head.  
I am an android.  
He could not be hurt.  
He was an android, hence he did not feel.

Now that the immediate threat was gone his systems seemed weary, while they were flooded with malfunction messages. The humming in his chest had ceased to a low buzz while several less complex diagnoses were running, informing him about the damage he had sustained. The stutter remained, now and then breaking off scripts or starting a sub-programme which he had not intended to activate.

Up to now he had not been successful in detecting the specific defect causing his shoulder to jerk, though at the moment his arm was lying still. His memory files had been filled disorderly with useless information, blocking pathways and drawing his attention to too many internal processes at the same time. Whenever he attempted to rearrange the stored information though, small electrical bursts led to programme abortion. It was frustrating, but he had to accept that repairing and formatting processes would take time. He also concluded that he was not able to perform all of the repairs on his own. If he did not meet someone as capable as Geordi, he would have to remain in a flawed state.

At the mention of Geordi his shoulder jerked again, an interesting coincidence.

Giving it some thought he came to the conclusion that he missed the _Enterprise_ and wished to leave this place and go back. He considered the _Enterprise_ a home and now that he needed it, it was gone.

An error message dragged him out of his memories, something was wrong. Perhaps because of all the alerted programmes which still sought a change of his current situation and by that caused major systemic chaos his nutrient processing system seemed unable to convert the semen he had swallowed. His head twitched repeatedly as he registered his artificial oesophagus starting to contract.

„Fajo,“ he croaked, „get off of me.“

His captor gave him a suspicious look, „What’s with your voice, android?“

Data had noticed the unusual tonal quality himself. „I do not know. I have not experienced anything of comparative value to give a satisfactory answer.“

He hiccuped as his body contracted again.

„However, I seem to be unable to process your…,“ his head jerked uncontrollably, „…bodily fluids. My system requires to cleanse itself.“

He looked at Fajo, who did not move. „Please, Fajo.“

Fajo slowly climbed off his lap looking at him through squinted eyes, and as Data did not find a resemblance for his facial expression he decided to be careful. He found his body to be strangely feeble, and as he pushed himself out of the sofa to get up his legs appeared to be disconnected from commands, his knees buckled and he collapsed. On all fours, his body convulsing violently, he could not stall the growing urge to purge his throat any longer. A ragged cough left his mouth, fluid shot into his eyes and he retched onto the floor.

His eyes lingered on the tiny blot as he tried to fathom what exactly had happened. This had never before occurred, not with anything he had tried to process. Then two feet came into his field of vision, his hair was grabbed and his head yanked upwards. Fajo’s face was hovering above him and he identified the look on it as deeply disgusted.

„You’re pathetic, Data,“ Fajo spat at him.

„What a show. Is that how you celebrate our encounter? And look what you’ve done to my carpet.“

He turned to Varria, who was staring at the scene, wide-eyed.

„What do you think about this behaviour, dear? Should we teach it some manners?“

Immediately new warning signals burst through his systems and he tried to ease the tension.

„I apologise, Fajo, I did not intend to do this.“

Instead of an answer Fajo pulled his head back, adding a strong kick to his chest and Data landed on his back, staring up at his kidnapper. Fajo straddled him, settling on his hips and softly shook his head.

„Data,“ he said soothingly, and Data’s behaviour analysis simply crashed as it failed to follow the man’s sudden change of attitude, „look, you’re here to shine, you’re part of my collection. Your behaviour just now is very inappropriate, I guess you can see that as well? What would my guests say, if you did this in front of them, hm?“

„I do apologise,“ Data repeated. He did not desire to engage in another unsuccessful discussion with Fajo.

Reflecting on his situation he found it appalling how Fajo had managed to gain control over him. Data was surpassing him in nearly every aspect, still he was lying here, seeing no other rational way to protect Varria from further damage than his subjection to Fajo’s will.

„Of course now you apologise. But that’s a bit late, don’t you think? The damage is done, you ruined my exhibition room. Now what shall I do to teach you how to behave in a way befitting the jewel of my collection?“

Data stared at him, perplexed.

„I do not know,“ he whispered.

He could not decide on anything that would perhaps please his captor so that he would not harm Varria nor act violently towards Data.

„No, you do not know,“ Fajo echoed, smiling at him and stroking his forehead.

Then suddenly, hard-featured, he slapped his face, „Open your mouth, android.“

Data complied.

„Good. Stay like that,“ Fajo hissed.

Data locked his jaw and stayed like that, the first notes of _Aktuh and Melota_ dawning on the edge of his consciousness.

And even as Fajo reached out with his left hand and started fumbling around Data’s back he remained still, did not protest and just waited for Fajo to trip the deactivation switch.


	8. Chapter 8

Fajo was above him, eyeing him intently, then wafted out of sight.

Every alarm went off.

His self-preservation programme overlaid everything else with erratic and unreadable pieces of information.

Bursts of energy drove through his body. 

Data was unable to sit up. Why was he not able to sit up?

He took deep breaths to cool down the internal tumult that paralysed his carcass.

He focused on the ceiling to orient himself. He was lying on the sofa. It occurred to him that he had become quite accustomed to this specific view over the time he had spent on the _Jovis_.

He tried to sit up again, and failed.

He initiated a self diagnosis and his head jerked violently to the left when the findings hit him.

His limbs were gone.

* * *

Fajo observed Data as it came to.

Fascinated he witnessed the android’s growing realisation of its condition. In a way it was so… human, bending its body, thrashing its head, uttering unintelligible sounds through its still wide open mouth, which spoke of anxiety and terror. Then again it was so absolutely alien, a pale trunk, bereft of its arms and legs, still sporting the same erection it had shown when he’d switched it off the night before. Sockets and cables protruded from where the limbs had been like dead tendrils.

Silently he went over to Data and sat down next to it, slowly caressing its twitching face. The creature aligned its haunted gaze onto him, wordless questions buried in its golden eyes.

Fajo smiled softly, „You’re beautiful, Data, you know that? You are so pure, so innocent.“ He clicked his tongue.

„It feels so good to hurt you. Of course, you cannot be hurt, don’t have to tell me. You can close your mouth by the way. Speaking might be easier then.“

He chuckled as the machine shut its eyes and loosened its jar, closing its mouth.

It just lay there for a while, solely emitting that sensuous hum, until finally it opened its eyes again and whispered, „Is Varria unharmed?“

Now that nearly killed him. This creature was such a treat!

He threw a quick glance at Varria, who, at the mention of her name, had raised her head from her knees and looked over to them, her face of an unhealthy pale colour.

„Tell it, Varria,“ he said, and she croaked, „I’m okay, Data, I’m alive… thank you.“

„That’s enough,“ Fajo smiled, letting his voice be a lingering threat and she caved, her head sinking back down.

Satisfied, he sighed and concentrated on Data again.

It was looking at him, its eyes finding his, and asked, „What have you done to me?“

* * *

Fajo grinned down at him.

„Oh. Yes. We had some fun together, Data, but I fear you won’t remember. An old friend of mine visited, Palor. He was quite fond of you, I must say.“

That stirred further chaos.  


His system was on the edge of collapse.

There was just too much uncertainty, an uncanny experience.

He could tell that he had been out for 17 hours, 15 minutes, 32 seconds, 4 nanoseconds. A horrendously long time.

Apart from that he was lost.

Fajo stroked his chest absentmindedly. „Well, to be honest, I think he was quite jealous,“ he said, his eyes resting on nothing in particular. A faint smile washed over his lips. „But I think you helped him get over that.“

Data’s head jerked repeatedly as his programmes offered possible events of the past night, none of them reassuring.

„You’ve been delicious, android,“ Fajo whispered and stared at him with eyes that registered as calculating.

After two failed attempts Data was able to run a specific diagnostic of his nutrient processing system and was not surprised to detect biofluids both in his artificial oesophagus and his anal cavity.

There were some clashes between several subroutines, forcing his trunk to convulse while his chest produced a screeching rattle, a most terrifying sound. He quickly shut down the self-cleaning programme in fear of the consequences. His shoulder joint cracked again, this time harsh and metallic, since the sound was not muffled by his arm piece. At the edge of his visual input field he saw something pathetically rotate where the arm had been. A dull thump left his mouth and he gasped for air.

„Hey,“ Fajo purred soothingly and ran his fingers through Data’s hair, „shh, it’s alright. I’m here.“

„Fajo,“ he pressed through gritted teeth, with a voice strangely underlaid with fractured noise, „give me back my limbs. Reassemble me, I beg you, please.“

The last tone trailed off into displeasing static.

* * *

And that was all it emitted for the next couple of minutes, while Fajo picked it up and cradled its trunk in his arm, caressing its face and kissing it deeply. For a brief moment it buried its head in the curve of his neck and a pang of lust rushed through Fajo’s stomach. It was a peculiar feeling to hold a warm and writhing torso in one’s arms and Fajo giggled in pleasure. He untangled the machine’s dishevelled hair and marvelled at the fluttering eyelids and twitching pupils. Much of the android’s surreal appearance was caused by those golden eyes, which right now seemed unable - or unwilling? - to focus.

By now Fajo was sure that Data was as vulnerable to humiliation as living beings, different perhaps, but delicate in its own way.

He clicked his fingers, „Can you hear me?“ It responded with a faint nod.

He flattened his tongue and slowly licked over Data’s mouth, enjoying the sick sound that passed the machine’s lips. 

„My sweet toy,“ he whispered and savoured his triumph, „my sweet broken toy.“

He felt his arousal rising. The machine had quite an impact on him. It made him want to smash it, and bathe in its corruption. It was the innocence, the pureness paired with its amazing strength that made it so desirable, he’d concluded, and what made controlling and hurting it so delicious.

Nearly absentmindedly he began stroking Data’s erection. The android gasped and quietly whined, the strange static noise slowly fading out.

Fajo observed its face meticulously as it reacted to his touch. He monitored how the lips parted slightly, how they moved in tiny, almost inaudible utterances. He breathed deeply over the half-closed eyelids, the gold shining through a thicket of lashes. His dick was throbbing in response to the fractional distortions that flickered over its face, shortly manifesting themselves in a twitching lip or widened nostrils. Its programming was so detailed, it was almost not bearable.

He violently squeezed its cock and the android’s eyes flew open in shock, its body convulsed and drove a sharp breath out of its mouth.

Fajo condescendingly slapped the damp shaft and balls a few times and smiled at the humiliation and pain that spelt itself into the android’s features.

It looked at him, deeply betrayed, and whispered, „Please, Fajo, do not…“

He sat up straight and rearranged the torso, tugging it by its dick. It pressed its lips together and its head flung to the side.

„Ah, Data, you look rather unhappy for an android. Is it that unpleasant to be so… dismembered? Tell me, do you notice that parts of you are missing on, like, a physical level? Do you feel incomplete?“

It averted its eyes.

„I’m quite interested in how you might experience this situation. Does your system register how pathetic you look right now? Or is it just a bit inconvenient, since you can’t move properly? After all, you’re just a demolished machine, but how does that compute?“

It breathed heavily.

„Do you feel pain?“

It shook its head.

„You want your limbs back?“

It nodded, closing its eyes for a second, then facing him, „Please.“

„Yes, I thought you would. The problem is, Data, I really like this lost look of yours. Warms my lonely heart. But I tell you what, since I’m not a cruel person - well,“ he winked at the android, „not entirely cruel - let’s make a deal. I’ll get you your arms and legs, if you’ll be my sad little robot. Be sad. Make a sad face. Show me those tears again, what do you say?“

He caressed its chest and gently smiled at Data, which actually looked bewildered for a moment.

Fajo began stroking its dick again, with the other hand lightly touching its temple, the cheekbone, the ear. The android wheezed and looked away, still heavily breathing it seemed to zoom in on one of the paintings on the wall. It was a beautiful view and Fajo hold his breath in admiration. For a few seconds neither of them moved. And then it turned to face Fajo again.

„As you wish,“ it whispered.

And he had to gasp in amazement, while the android’s lips began to tremble, it breathed a ragged sob and its eyes slowly filled with gold.

Fajo gritted his teeth and pressed his hips into the android’s abdominal stump.

„Yes,“ he said as he grabbed the slender waist and ground the torso.

His cock was swollen and he felt heat burning on his face.

With trembling hands he opened his pants and rubbed his dick with violent and uncontrolled thrusts on the creamy trunk.

The android quietly sobbed and the first tear welled from his right eye, slowly making its way down to its pulsing lips.

Fajo opened his mouth and gasped and came, spurting over the machine’s stomach and chest, again, panting, and again.

„Yes,“ he moaned, „yes,“ catching his breath.

Carefully he reached around the android with his hands, embracing it for a moment, until he found the switch and pressed it.

Data went stiff immediately. Its face froze in the most delicate state of despair, two golden streaks glistening on its cheeks.

„Fuck. Yes.“ Fajo whispered and packed his dick away. „Yes. You’re really good, android.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all, does this need further tagging? Like for unconsciousness or dismemberment?
> 
> I don’t want to spoil the fun stumbling into it with Data awakening at the beginning of the chapter, but also don’t want people to feel bad because they didn’t know. What do you think?


	9. Chapter 9

Data sat up.

This was good so far.

He was getting quite used to coming to to alarms and collapsing programmes. 

Which was not good.

Data checked his joints, all of his limbs had been correctly reattached. He was on the floor, 2.6 metres from the sofa, where Fajo sat, watching him. A power drain washed through his body for 0.7 seconds as Data had a brief vision that this was how it would be from now on. He stored the thought away and closed the file. He would cope.

Data visually screened his body, he was still naked and the distasteful erection had not gone yet. Which was no surprise, since his sexual programming was still active and had not been given the time to fade out and quit, due to the constant de- and reactivations Fajo was executing on him.

While running a quick internal assessment that revealed nothing new, only that his systems were rather damaged and in need of extensive repairs, his eyes fell on his left wrist and the flow in his neural pathways leaped. He noticed his forehead crinkle and his head twitch as he processed the visual information. Written on his inner wrist were his kidnapper’s initials and the number 105 in Zibalian. His shoulder jerked violently, ripping the hand out of his view.

He turned to Fajo, who had folded his hands and dipped them against his pouting lips, observing him intently. Data opened his mouth, but could only produce ridiculous velar sounds, while his neck servos got out of control.

* * *

The impact of the labelling was immense, just as Fajo had hoped it would be.

It was pure joy to watch Data gape at its wrist again and again, humming intensely, finally clasping the marking with a movement he could only describe as desperate, while its shoulder jerked repeatedly. It opened and closed its mouth multiple times, never being able to emit more than guttural coughs.

Fajo snapped his fingers to get its attention. Data looked up and its vulnerable expression was a fist to the guts. „Come here,“ he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He leaned back and watched, as Data tried to get up but pathetically failed, since its legs seemed to be only half respondent. He observed the quivering machine in amazement, its obvious loss of control over its motor and speech functions made his face puffy with lust, his lips pulsing.

He groaned and opened his flies, grabbing his cock. The taste of power washed over him, and he drank the image of that powerful creature, made utterly helpless by _him_ , by _his_ words, _his_ actions. His cock ached and he gently caressed the rim of the head.

He closed his eyes, „Come here,“ he said again.

The flailing android finally managed to say something like „I cannot,“ though it was hard to understand, its voice was noisy, fragmented.

Fajo opened his eyes again to find Data looking at him with the most horrified expression, slumped down on the floor. The traces of tears were still visible on its cheeks and Fajo had to bite his lower lip and concentrate on the pain to not come right now. The image of the ruined android burned itself into his mind.

Though it was most unfortunate he let go of his dick and instead placed his hands on his belt, acknowledging with satisfaction how Data’s eyes nervously followed the movement.

„Come here,“ he repeated a third time and let a level gaze rest on his devastated toy. And with heavy, half closed eyes he watched as Data lowered its head and started to drag itself with swerving limbs on hands, hips, knees over to were Fajo was seated.

Beautiful. It was so unbelievably beautiful. How that artificial skin quietly shone, how it crinkled where it bent. How the hands and fingers moved independently and with a grace, just like real hands and fingers would. How the eyebrows knitted just enough to make it look worried.

After today he would perhaps have to give it a bit of time to fix itself, he absolutely didn’t want to completely crash it, since that would be a real disappointment.

High on arousal he swallowed, it was still a miracle to him, how he had been able to fundamentally destroy this machine just by submitting it to a bit of emotional stress. And there he was again, Data couldn’t ever tell him that it was not able to _feel_. What else was it doing there, wobbling in front of him, beaten and horror-stricken?

Fajo breathed deeply, as it reached his grasp and came to a trembling halt between his legs, settling on its knees and shins, head dropped.

Smiling down at it, he soothed, „There you go, android, that wasn’t that difficult, was it?“

He stroked its head, letting a dark strand run through his fingers. He wondered if it was able to let its hair grow, that would perhaps be funny to play with.

Bending down he brought his mouth near the android’s right ear and whispered, „I have marked you, Data. You’re mine and I want to show it. This is your catalogue number, every piece of my collection has one. I like to keep things in order.“

Holding its head steady he carefully took its earlobe into his mouth, nibbling gently, aspirating, “It will also help to remind you of me.” He dipped his nose into Data’s neck, taking in the unique scent of the machine. Its head softly vibrated in his hand. With pleasure he observed Data clenching its wrist, rubbing over the letters with uneven movements.

„Don’t bother to get it off,“ he purred, „unless you want to destroy your arm. I won’t get you a new one. Why don’t you look at it from my perspective? Be proud Data, you’re now officially part of the most exquisite collection. Come on, be proud for me?“

Leaning back he put a finger under Data’s chin and lifted its head up until their eyes met. Fajo gasped as he fell into those golden irises, and into the deep sorrow they were carrying.

He placed a careful thumb on its cheek and wiped through the trail of old tears.

„Why is there such pleasure in breaking a machine?“ he whispered and revelled in the android averting its eyes.

Sliding his thumb between Data’s lips he forced its mouth open, buried his fingers deep in Data’s hair and gently pulled its head into his groin. The android bent down smoothly and complied without a word, opening its mouth wider and taking Fajo in.

He sucked in the air, which suddenly seemed to thicken and taste sweet, the scent of the android lingering in his throat.  
Carefully he guided Data’s head, making it move slowly on his sensitive erection, savouring how the android responded and played, tongue dancing over his shaft, the head, the tiny slit. As many times before he could only admire Soong’s handiwork, this machine was so much more gifted than any living being Fajo’d had between his legs. He sighed deeply as his dick disappeared into that pale face and his abdomen ached from lust.

„You know Data, don’t you also think it’s funny? You are one of the most advanced brains of the known universe, and what are you being used for? You’re an oversized fuck toy. Calculating pressure application. I somehow find that amusing, don’t you?“

It faltered for a fraction of time, jolts running through its body and he smiled, tousling its hair.

Then he leaned back and lolled on the sofa, taking in the adorable view, as Data found back into its rhythm and continued to pleasure him.

He contemplated on how easy it had been for him to determine the android’s weaknesses, now playing on them, producing the most exquisite results.

„Faster, android,“ he murmured and closed his eyes, sinking into pure feeling.

* * *

Data had succumbed to the situation.

Was this breaking? It had been a logical thing to do, the risk of further damaging his systems would be far higher, if he continued to let his different programmes struggle with each other. He had shut down most of the scripts that were responsible for his internal upheaval and was still barely able to manage those that were not interruptible. He had also paused several of his internal diagnostics, since it was predictable what they were stating, his status was not about to get better at the moment.

It was clear that he would have to pay for his actions.

His body was now functioning in emergency mode and it could sustain that for many days. He would have to postpone any further attempt on fixing or reorganising himself. For now he was working. The many malfunctions were irritating, but he would be able to operate within restricted parameters.

His internal chronometer organised his sucking, gradually increasing speed and pressure. He let his fingers flutter over Fajo’s crotch, lightly caressing his thighs and testicles. He let himself be guided by the sounds Fajo made, his moans and his breathing, and of course by the hand in his hair.

Fajo had him in a tight grip, now and then forcing his head deep into his groin, having him swallow his penis up to the root and holding him there for several seconds, before letting him continue his up-and-down movement. He registered his captor’s penis continually pressing against the back of his throat. His sexual programming made him utter feeble moans and whimpers, a contemptible performance.

His thoughts were strongly bound by the mark on his wrist. Several subroutines were checking on the material of the inscription, while others searched for modes of removal. The mere presence of the mark disturbed him greatly and he had to be careful not to invest too much working memory into the topic, since that led to jerks of his shoulder joint and he did not desire to hurt Fajo with his flailing arm.

His ethics programme kept cross-referencing Fajo’s actions with his memories of the hearing about his state of being. He was not too keen to receive the results of this equation though, since most of the things Fajo had been doing to him during the last hours profoundly violated his generally fragile civil status. He knew that and he did not wish to be constantly reminded. His neck jerked, which was not desirable either, given his present condition with Fajo’s penis in his mouth and he registered the humming in his chest gaining volume. 

Fajo grabbed his hair even tighter and started to forcefully shove him down onto his penis. Data hold on to Fajo’s feet to keep his balance, a gesture his captor would most certainly enjoy. The man was panting roughly now, and Data could sense muscles tensing and contracting where their bodies touched. Perhaps it would be over soon, that would be most welcome. He had detected a new power surge in his neural pathways which made it harder to focus.

Data had a loop running which repeatedly reminded him that he, albeit an android, was a person with rights, and not property. Marking him though and thus defining him as a piece of art in his collection - a thing, that was - Fajo had made him exactly that - his property. The jolts driving through his system, causing the loop to consistently stutter and contort his morale-boosting did not help in matters of reassurance.

His main attention was forcefully drawn back to Fajo’s penis, as his captor bucked his hips hard into his face, grunting and losing more and more control over his movements. Fajo held Data’s head in a strong grip and finally pressed it onto his body, his body into him, coming with jerks in Data’s throat.

„Swallow, android,“ was his only and hoarse command, and Data complied, detachedly swallowing the warm semen that spurted into him. The remaining programmes only caused a mild stutter. It would not further hurt him. It was acceptable. And analysing the situation revealed that there was no other reasonably safe way of reacting anyway. So what else could he do?

* * *

His orgasm was long and hard, having been built up over quite some time.

Fajo gritted his teeth, panting, and watched the android’s artificial larynx move as it swallowed his cum.

It never once looked up at him, it didn’t struggle or even move away, completely different than the day before.

He felt the urgent need to hurt it and pulled its head back and off of his dick. Its mouth made a wet smacking sound as it disconnected and a strand of saliva and semen hung obscenely between them, connecting his cock to the open lips, smooth and glistening. It stretched, then parted, and continued to run down the machine’s chin.

It looked at him, looked him in the eye, and he got the beautiful impression of a languid and broken weariness.

The android just kept its mouth open, not moving, just watching him. It was a perfect image of submission, and reacting to it, Fajo let a streak of saliva drip into its mouth and smiled, as it finally shut over the intrusion. Data looked away and swallowed.

„Yes, Data, drink me.“ Fajo whispered.

„Very good, robot, you did well. Keep it in, this time, will you?“ It nodded.

Fajo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The creature and its beauty held his heart in a tight grip. He would without doubt be able to cry over its pale skin and the haunted eyes, while delicately torturing it, just for the sake of its purity being shattered again and again.

But not today. For today he’d had enough and needed a shower and a good meal.

Leaning forward he sensually licked over the android’s cheek. Then he placed his foot on its naked chest, letting it rest there for a few delicious seconds, memorising the image of his dark shoes on the pale sheeting, before he violently pushed the machine away.

Data fell backwards and tipped over to one side, its body curled up. It looked so alive, as it clenched its knees and buried its head between them, a vulnerable echo of the way Varria had spent most of the last hours. Shivers went through it, now and then accompanied by a stronger jerk.

Fajo got up, put his dick away and looked down on the trembling android. He dipped it with one foot and let warm cruelty sneak into his voice.

„What’s that attitude now, what are you doing, lying there? Have you given up? What’s with your pride, Data?“

He sneered, „Ah, I did it again, I’m so sorry, I seem to forget. There’s no pride in you, right? Just plain programming. I act and you react. No emotions, no hurt feelings. After all, you’re just an android. Isn’t that true, hm?“

Data lifted its head slightly to look at him. Then it nodded, letting its head rest on the carpet.

“Yes,” it stated calmly, “that is true.”

Fajo smirked, gave the machine a last kick, turned around and left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Data heard the door close.

His visual sensors provided a detailed impression of his kneecaps and a part of the grey carpet, 205,181,205.

There was a pained murmur coming from the corner where Varria sat.

He regretted that Fajo had not deactivated him before he left.

Tired of following his programmes’ jumps and crashes he initiated the _Aktuh and Melota_ file and closed his eyes.

And then, in the middle of the first chords he heard an unmistakeable sound.

He opened his eyes and they widened in wonder, as he was surrounded by the blue haze of the transporter beam.


	11. Chapter 11

Will immediately knew that there was something wrong when the curled pale figure became visible in the transporter beam.

„What’s going on with the transporter?“ he asked, squinting. O’Brien shook his head, „That’s how I got him, Sir, transport is stable.“

Upon full materialisation Will took in a sharp breath. What the hell was going on here? This looked seriously wrong indeed.

Mixed feelings washed over him. His hopes had been high like everyone else’s when they’d discovered that, maybe, Data hadn’t been destroyed. The evidence worked out like pieces of a puzzle, it had made sense that a man like Fajo could decide to kidnap Data, just because he was Data. Will had been seriously shocked by the android’s assumed death, just as many of the other crew members. He hadn’t given it thought before, but Data was by now so much more than just a comrade, he’d turned into a friend. Will had found himself deeply missing the quirky machine in his daily routines on the _Enterprise_.

So the shock and sadness had turned to hope when Geordi’d come up with his assumption and hope had turned to relief and a honest happiness when they’d actually located the android’s signature on the _Jovis_. He had loped to the transporter room with a wide grin to welcome Data back.

And now this. What the hell was he to make of this?

„Commander,“ he said, trying to sound certain.

That was Data, alright. But why was he naked and crumpled on the floor, like… like he had been defeated or hurt or… something else and really bad had happened to him? This was a pose he would never have associated with the Lieutenant Commander. It was… deeply wrong. He turned to O’Brien to find his anxiety mirrored on the other man’s face.

Will rubbed his beard to calm himself down a bit, his hand was cold and wet upon the touch.

„Computer, lock Transporter Room Three,“ he issued, his voice strangely hoarse.

“Commander,” he tried again, but the certainty was gone. And no response from the android on the ground. He started towards the transporter platform where Data was lying, feeling as if he had to wade through water. Data stirred.

And Will stood frozen and could only watch with discomfort on the edge of panic how the android tried to get up several times, failing like a marionette on tangled up strings, his legs shaking and giving way under him. One of his arms kept rotating in a strange angle with the shoulder emitting unhealthy cracking sounds. There was a deep humming noise accompanying the pathetic movements.

Finally Data paused in his repetitive efforts and turned to face him. Will swallowed hard. The android’s face bore such agony, it pierced right through his heart.

„Data.“ Will croaked and he finally got to move and was next to him in two quick strides. He felt blood rush in his ears as he knelt down and reached out to steady the shaking android. Data flinched and Will drew his hand back, as if burned.

„Data,“ he whispered again, „you alright?“ Damn, what a ridiculous question. Absolutely nothing was right here. Data’s whole body was smeared with traces of - gold? - and Will winced as his eyes fell onto an obscene erection that protruded from the android’s groin. Ashamed he looked away, having the feeling he’d just intruded into something very private. Returning his gaze to the android he tried awkwardly to focus on his face.

“Data, say something,” he stammered. “That’s an order.”

Data opened his mouth and produced a strange mechanical sound. His neck twitched twice and he closed his mouth again. 

Will pressed his combadge: „Riker to La Forge, medical emergency concerning Commander Data. Geordi, prepare for a site-to-site transport to the cybernetics lab and meet me there immediately. Riker out.“

Data closed his eyes and managed to state, his voice heavily slurred, „Please… arrange to have Kivas Fajo taken into custody. On charges of… torturing, kidnapping, theft…“

„The arrangements have already been made,“ Will interrupted. He didn’t want to hear it. It was not true. A machine could not be tortured. Data couldn’t be hurt, he just didn’t want to hear it. 

Data spoke up again, wheezing strongly, “There is… a woman… behind a force field…” His shoulder produced a gruesome crack and his arm flew behind him, yanking his body around.

Will turned to O’Brien, who looked really distressed by now, with wide eyes and red blotches emerging on his cheeks.

„See that you find that woman,” Will suggested, sounding dull. He continued, “and get us to the lab, Mr O’Brien, energise.“

The transporter chief just nodded thankfully and beamed them over.


	12. Chapter 12

They’d had to heave Data to a shaky stand and strap him to the rods around the inspection platform in the cybernetics lab so he wouldn’t collapse. That hadn’t been easy, since the android was heavy and kept jerking with his arm, which was actually quite dangerous. Gotten hit by it once, Will wasn’t keen on reliving the experience a second time. Finally Will had held Data up on the narrow platform while Geordi had fastened the straps around his chest and waist.

They had worked in awkward silence, only interrupted by their grunts and mumbled curses, both of them making an effort not to come too close to that damned erection. When Data’d been secured, literally hanging in the straps, they’d covered him with a blanket, tucked around his waist, though that had been mainly for their own comfort.

Will had informed the senior staff but had ordered to be most discreet about Data’s state. He didn’t want the whole ship talking about… well, about the condition in which they had received the Commander.

He was strangely affected by witnessing the damaged android, as if something he’d always taken for granted was suddenly breaking away. Data had always been that strong and reliable machine, someone you certainly could depend on, always the same calm features and the same levelled voice. And now, with only two days of captivity he appeared to be so profoundly changed that Will had difficulties to find his friend between those jolts and twitches. He knew that Data wasn’t indestructible, but deep in his heart he had been. It was like losing a certainty, a most uncanny feeling.

Anger rose in his throat. That damned trader.

They had detained Kivas Fajo and informed authorities of his actions. His belongings had been brought to the _Enterprise_ and were at this moment examined and catalogued. More than a few pieces had already been declared stolen. Fajo had been totally oblivious to the graveness of his situation, denying the most obvious facts and loudly demanding to see a lawyer. With all the evidence at hand, how did he have the nerve to be so arrogant!

Fajo’s partner, Varria, had been saved and was currently in sickbay. She was badly wounded and in shock and at this moment not fit to be questioned.

Will had tried to tell Data that she was safe on the _Enterprise_ , but he wasn’t sure if the Commander had been able to comprehend.

He hadn’t said anything after the few words in the transporter room and now seemed completely absent.

In fact, he seemed broken, Will just couldn’t find a better word.

In their time together he had seen Data switched off on a few occasions, and this was distinctively different.

Data was not at all still, but moving constantly, his head slightly twitching to the side, his legs shaking and his hands caught in a repetitive loop, as if they performed an invisible task on a console over and over again.

He was reminded of a little robot he’d had as a child, a cute blue fluffy monster that was able to walk and talk and perform some tricks. One day he’d accidentally spilled a full glass of water over it and it broke. He remembered vividly how he had been really sad and at the same time had to laugh about the strange circular movements the damaged robot was making. Only this time it was Data who made those strange circular movements and there was absolutely nothing to laugh about.

Will looked over at La Forge, who had opened Data’s head and was connecting him to the lab station. He’d always found this to be an eerie sight.

Geordi hadn’t said one unnecessary word since Will had arrived with Data and he knew that the engineer was desperately trying to hold himself together in order to be able to help his friend. It ached his heart to see Geordi working with trembling hands, his lips pressed tightly together and the muscles in his jaw contracting.

He remembered a moment when Deanna had been seriously ill and how out of order he had been during that time. It had been nearly too much to bear for him to watch her in pain with nothing he could do to help her.

Now he could feel Geordi’s anxiety. Data was his best friend and though the android was not capable of experiencing pain this breakdown was certainly terrible enough to witness.

It was probably the best to leave Geordi to his expertise and give him some time alone with Data.

Actually, Will had done all he could for now, he was merely standing in the way.

Reassuringly - or at least trying to be - he patted Geordi’s shoulder, „I’ll be on the bridge. If there’s anything you need, give me a call. Got it?“

Geordi nodded in his direction, thanking him wordlessly.

Will turned back to Data and swallowed, regarding his limp body, humming lowly in its constant agitation, „It’s good to have you back, Data,“ he stated and, unable to say more, he left the lab.

* * *

When Commander Riker and Data had materialised in the lab and he had first seen Data it had felt like someone had dumped ice-cold water into his brain.

Now that water spread slowly through his body, making it hard to move or to concentrate.

That someone had also decided to pad his head with cotton wool and it was as if he could watch himself from the outside, doing everything in slow motion.

Still this was the most nervous state of slow motion he could imagine and his hands were shaking, as if there was no damn need to be precise.

Geordi swallowed. He had to focus!

He was grateful for Riker leaving him alone for a while, it was enough that Data should witness his edgy state. If he was able to witness anything at all that was, he certainly didn’t make the impression. He was more hanging than standing there, attached to the platform’s rods and executing those dull movements.

Geordi had uncoordinatedly plugged the cables to Data’s head and feared to be too agitated to apply the acute instruments to his friend’s delicate brain.

The first readings had been simply ludicrous, he’d never seen anything like that before, and he had seen some outstanding readings from the android.

He looked away for a second, not being able to bear the sight of Data’s weak and flickering aura.

Sighing deeply he calibrated his sensor with trembling fingers. Of course it slipped through his hands and fell to the floor with an awful clattering sound. Geordi cursed under his breath and bumped his head on the console as he knelt down to pick up the instrument.

„Geordi,“ Data slurred, and Geordi froze, hearing the incapacitated voice for the first time, „you seem… to be stressed. Do I… occupy your time? If you have… important tasks…“

“Cut it, Data, I won’t hear that,” Geordi snarled, immediately regretting the harsh tone.

Breathing deeply he tried to calm down. Of course Data had observed him despite all the damage and of course he had also noticed the bad shape Geordi was in. He had been kidnapped for two days and the first thing Geordi could do was bark at him. It was pathetic.

But come on, what was that with the _important tasks_? Was Data trying to make a joke? If so, it was a bad one. But perhaps it was a real concern, you never knew with the android. Geordi shook his head. Sometimes Data’s humility really annoyed him.

He shifted so that his face was in front of Data’s.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound comforting.

“You’re my friend and you need to be repaired, that is the most important task I can think of right now.”

He put his hand on Data’s shoulder and the android jerked away from the touch, wobbling in his restraints. Slowly Geordi withdrew his hand, being left puzzled and with a strange and bitter taste in his mouth.

He turned and initiated a variety of diagnostic programmes. On the first glimpse there was nothing _really_ wrong with the pressure sensory input in Data’s shoulder and chest region. Minor fluctuations, yes, but nothing that would explain the sudden motion reaction Data had just showed. But then, seemingly nearly every system and subsystem was at least a bit disorderly, so to be honest right now there was no way of telling what input led to what output. A glitch, maybe. Geordi frowned. This was going be a long night.

Turning back to Data and fumbling with the scanner, he stated, “You’re right, I’m stressed. I’m stressed, because… Data, honestly, you don’t look so good. I’ve never seen you in such a state and, yeah, I guess that freaks me out a bit. These first readings I get here are - I don’t know - what exactly have you done, Data? This is all really messed up. I don’t know where to start and I fear to inflict even more damage upon your systems, just because… Data, I just don’t know…,” his voice trailed off, sounding awfully brittle.

Data looked at him and Geordi could swear that there was the echo of a smile appearing on his lips. Was he trying to comfort him? Seriously. Data was trying to comfort him. Geordi breathed out and ran his hand over his hair.

And he also noticed how Data was apparently unable to focus his gaze on him. His head and eyes continued to glide off of his face until he jerked them back up. It was creepy to watch. He would make that one of the first things to look into.

Then Data opened his mouth and tried to say something, looking helplessly at Geordi, who gritted his teeth.

After a few agonising seconds, the android managed to produce more than mere sound fragments.

“Let me… assure you that… I have deep confidence in… your abilities, Geordiii,” but the last vowel got caught up in a staccato repetition. Data’s eyes widened and his head began twitching violently.

“Data,” Geordi called out, but the android seemed to be trapped in a loop and didn’t respond anymore. His fingers arbitrarily contracted and a bad cracking sound was coming from the region of his left shoulder.

Geordi bent over the console, trying to locate the problem, but the signals he got were erratic and changing fast and he had absolutely no clue what he was staring at.

He noticed that the humming coming from Data’s chest grew louder, accompanied by more of these awful cracking sounds. Data was thrashing about in his restraints and the twisted end of Geordi’s name fired from his contorted mouth, and didn’t stop, it just didn’t stop.

Geordi felt sick.

And he realised that he wouldn’t be able to do anything with Data in this state.

Carefully he circled his writhing friend and informed him, trying to hide the panic in his voice, “Data, I’m going to switch you off now. I cannot work on you like that. You’ll be on again as soon as I manage to stop this - loop - you’re in. Okay? I promise. Now.”

He couldn’t tell for sure, but he had the feeling that Data’s aura was flickering stronger than before.

Geordi put his fingers on the deactivation switch and Data’s body jolted away from him. His arms were flailing and his left foot repeatedly twisted.

Geordi bit his lower lip, choking on a lump in his throat.

He reached out again to press the switch, leaving his friend no space to reel back further, and the horrible scene went finally silent.

An awful silence.

Data hung in the restraints, swinging faintly back and forth. His head was bowed, his eyes wide open, frozen in terror and he was baring his teeth. It was horrible.

Geordi’s heart was racing.

He stumbled back, nearly missing the chair he was aiming for.

Sinking down, he carefully took off his VISOR and placed it on the console, buried his head in his hands and started to cry.


	13. Chapter 13

Geordi had accomplished to stabilise Data’s left foot, his legs and arms, and repair at least the strange contortion in his voice.

Data was switched on again and he kept twitching and jerking from time to time and emitted strange noises, but he was able to talk and to stand on his own.

So far so good.

With these first successful steps Geordi had calmed down a bit. It was always like this, he needed to get his hands on the problem and things immediately seemed less frightening. To be honest, it also helped a great deal that Data didn’t seem so… mechanical and alien anymore, now that he was standing still on the lab’s platform, not acting like a broken wind-up doll.

Still, this was some serious mess.

Geordi wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, as he tried to make sense of the readings coming from Data’s systems. All of Data’s access panels were open and connected to the computer. Geordi went back and forth between the console and his friend’s brain, prodding and testing circuits, typing commands, carefully applying minute changes to see where that led. He had already examined a number of subsystems and also smoothed out a bit of the chaos, but all in all, he was not really a step further.

Interpreting the information coming in he muttered, “Data, you seem to have cold booted several times over the last days. I really wouldn’t advise that, you know your brain is too fragile for that sort of recklessness.” No further comment from the android.

Geordi sighed. Data had massively tampered with his programmes while being captive.

His system was a slipshod chaos and now the android faced the problem that he somehow couldn’t switch back to the routines he had used before.

Geordi was unable to grasp what had driven Data to do this to his files in the first place. What about his self-preservation routines? They should have kicked in to prevent this kind of bungle. This just wasn’t like him. But Data had confirmed that he alone had altered his programming.

And what exactly _was_ the problem, where in hell were the bugs?

Geordi was facing unexplainable malfunctions here. He’d reorganised some parts of the android’s system, but with others Data should have been perfectly able to fix himself.

But he wasn’t.

And it weren’t his self-repair mechanisms that were to blame, but _something_ just didn’t work.

And with an android, _something_ was a highly questionable diagnosis.

Geordi irritatedly tapped the console and sighed in frustration.

At least this - erection - had subsided by now, something Data seemed as relieved about as Geordi was. Geordi knew his friend was sexually capable and he’d also seen his body in many past medical checks. But that… swollen dick… had really distressed him. It had been so completely out of place, Geordi just had a very bad feeling about it. But he’d decided not to mention it, since it must have been awkward for Data, and Data had never brought it up either.

Perhaps it had been just that, another glitch, an embarrassing symptom of the many malfunctions Data was experiencing.

Or was Geordi deluding himself? What reasons had there been for Data to do what he had done to his body? Geordi felt the skin in his neck tingle. He blew out the air he hadn’t noticed he was holding in and tried to push away his thoughts.

What mattered right now were these malfunctions, and there was at least something he could do.

Geordi had already realised that he had to defrag large parts by hand, going through system after system, which would need quite some time. Some of Data’s scripts seemed to hinder each other, as if they all got stuck and were weaved into one another. That also meant that if he started to rewrite something in one specific programme, something entirely else suddenly was affected. That Dr Soong, he thought, as long as Data and him might work together, some aspects of his friend would always remain a mystery.

But no matter how hard he tried to dive into the difficult work and concentrate on that alone, his thoughts would start to wander off and meticulously point out everything that was out of the ordinary. And they had much to point out.

There was this… mark. How did it get there? What did it mean? Data had not yet talked about it, but seemed rather reluctant to even look at it. Geordi had noticed that he tended to clasp his wrist and hide the writing when Geordi faced him. He bit his lip and tried to concentrate on the console again.

„Damn,“ he breathed and smoothed his forehead with his fingers. He was beginning to develop a headache, right on time.

He looked over to his friend. Data stood perfectly still, eyes fixed on the door, cables protruding from him like curled antennae. He seemed to be patiently waiting for Geordi to come up with solutions to his overreacting network. Now that he was responsive again perhaps they should get onto the problem together? He could certainly need the android’s advice. After all, Data still knew his own body best.

„Data,“ Geordi said out loud, „could you help me a little with checking these programmes? I think it might be easier if we worked together on this. I need to know exactly what you changed here.”

No response.

Geordi turned around to look at him.

“Data?“

Was the android… not listening? That was very unusual.

Alarmed, Geordi shot a quick glance at the console and then went over. Perhaps there was something going wrong again? He checked a Tricorder on Data but nothing big had changed, still the same erratic readings, with fortunately no degradation.

Carefully he placed a hand on Data’s shoulder.

„Data. Can you hear me?“

That somehow brought the android back with a violent contraction of his rump that made Geordi jump back.

„Data?“ he said, now honestly frightened, „are you okay? What were you doing just now? You didn’t react!“

Data looked at him with golden eyes that seemed a bit… lost?

„I must apologise, if I have startled you. I have been listening to _Aktuh and Melota_.“

„Isn’t that Klingon?“ Geordi asked, getting a bit irritated, „Why would you do that? I mean, listening to music while we’re in the middle of an examination? We have some serious malfunctions here, as you might have noticed! If you want me to do my job I will need your help!“

Data dropped his head and Geordi was instantly sorry for bursting like this. Damn, he needed a break.

„Sorry Data,” he tried to be calm, “that was… I’m a bit on edge and you just scared me, you know. I had some rough days. I didn’t mean to…“

But Data cut in, also very unusual behaviour, and said in his ever so levelled voice, „Geordi, you are right, I do have to apologise again. You should not have to do the work by yourself.”

His brows knitted and his darting eyes and head indicated that he was computing. Then his forehead smoothed and he set his gaze on Geordi.

“I have seemed to be… unsettled by the prospect of the examination and during my stay on the _Jovis_ I have experienced _Aktuh and Melota_ to be an efficient distraction from actions I wished not to witness. It was a logical conclusion that it would help me here in the same way. I did not think about you requiring my help, which I do regret. Please proceed, Geordi, I have deactivated the music and will assist you now.“

That needed a few seconds to sink in. 

Geordi’s cheeks suddenly went cold and he felt his hair stand on his neck. His chest seemed to scrunch and he let out a shaky breath. He stared at the android, his friend, that glowing figure that always seemed to outshine his surroundings. How he was flickering weakly now. And how he was standing there on the platform, unendingly calm, returning his gaze.

And Geordi finally managed to gather all the courage he needed to ask what he had _really_ wanted to ask since the minute Data had materialised in the lab.

„Data. What has he done to you?“


	14. Chapter 14

At an early time in the conversation Geordi had unplugged him with shaking hands and had taken him straight to the android’s quarters, brusquely explaining, „We’ll continue there.“

Data had been relieved to get to his room. His modesty programme was functioning again insofar as it was able to remind him repeatedly to put on clothes.

However, first he had expressed the wish to take a shower to remove the residual seminal and lacrimal fluids from his body so to not stain his uniform, a wish that had triggered an astonishing outburst of inappropriate words and fluttering hands in his friend. Nonetheless Geordi had taken him to his quarters, let him use his shower and even given him one of his jumpsuits to wear. It had been a good experience to witness the modesty routines quieten down.

Even better was the fact that his sexual programming had quit sometime in the lab. It would have been very inappropriate, had it continued to function during Geordi’s examination.

Now they were back at Data’s quarters and he had finished reporting what had transpired during his time with Fajo. Which had disconcerting effects on his friend.

Data observed Geordi, as he was sitting opposite him on one of his chairs, elbows on his knees and head in hands.

„If only I had been faster, I knew something was off. Why? Why did it take me so long to discover it?“ 

Geordi seemed to be devastated, questioning his actions during the last days. A very human behaviour which Data found puzzling every time he encountered it. What was done was done, why would Geordi plague himself over things he would never be able to change, considering the linearity of time? Particularly as his questions seemed to further enliven his pain.

„I should have worked overtime,“ Geordi continued, „I should have done more.“ He exhaled shakily. His body shook in a strange fashion and he took off his VISOR to wipe his eyes. Data was concerned and fascinated at the same time.

„Geordi, you are crying. Do not. You saved me. I am back here on the _Enterprise_ , Fajo is in custody and will expectedly be sentenced to several years of imprisonment.“ His neck jerked and he swallowed. It would be advisable to regularly check the prison’s records.

He continued to mechanically pet Spot, who had decided to join him on the sofa and sit in his lap, a rare behaviour. She purred, the sound intermingling with the low humming from his chest. The new subroutine made him take in the number of cat hairs that were already clinging to the jumpsuit.

„You have helped me a lot since I am back. You have already begun to repair some of the damage I have inflicted on myself during my stay on the _Jovis_ and I have great confidence in you completing that task soon.“

„No, Data, no,“ Geordi moaned into his hands.

“Geordi?” Data was unsure how to proceed. “We can postpone the repairs, if they strain you much.”

Geordi wiped his neck, „Data, stop. That’s not the point. He’s done awful things to you! I should have questioned your death earlier. It would have prevented some of the damage…”

“Geordi, if you are implying that my malfunctions are your fault, then I can assure you they are not.” Data stated.

The engineer groaned. “He nearly destroyed you, Data! This is serious. You know, I cannot repair everything.“

„I do not understand,“ Data said carefully, and repeated, „do not cry, Geordi,“ his voice reflecting his insecurity about the development of their conversation.

But Geordi simply shook his head and continued to sob.

Confused by Geordi’s incapacity to react verbally, Data knitted his brows. It had obviously not been advisable to tell Geordi everything that had happened in such great detail. Or had he said something wrong?

Data replayed Geordi’s reactions upon his recapitulation of the last two days for further examination. His friend had seemed distraught, had not been able to sit for long but stood up from time to time, walked around, once even hit a wall with his fist, causing Spot to jump and hide behind the console. Over the progress of his narration Data had noticed subtle changes in Geordi’s complexion, he had started to look… grey. Data knew perfectly well that Fajo’s actions had been against the law and corrupt, but he had not imagined that they could hurt his friend. After all Geordi had not been present on the _Jovis_. If this was a display of Geordi’s empathy, it was certainly quite excessive.

Since his friend was still caught up in his empathic sorrow, Data steered his interest towards Geordi mentioning that he would not be able to repair him fully. His shoulder thumped. Several subroutines concluded that it was not acceptable to remain malfunctioning.

Data was sure that Geordi was wrong. There was still a lot to do, Data had catalogued the occurring errors himself and the list of active ones was long. But the engineer had also already repaired a lot, cleaned scripts and memory banks and rerouted power to the right programmes. Data could tell since his memory provided him with impressions of his former states. It would be a question of time, but he would be functioning normal again.

He went over the most obvious errors he was currently displaying.

When he had tried to give his friend a full report on his captivity, he had found himself strangely hindered in providing some of the details. This was something they would have to look into. Whenever he tried to open certain memory circuits, the files experienced power shutdowns and access was denied. 

He had also been consistently interrupted in his story by the cracking of his shoulder, by his voice suddenly being cut off or by scripts jumping in or terminating in the middle of a sentence.

There were the motion malfunctions he was experiencing in his arm and neck.

Very fascinating was the fact that he had faced difficulties to simultaneously tell what Fajo had done and keep a steady gaze on Geordi, notwithstanding that his cortex processor should have been perfectly able to do so. But his eyes just slipped away and got caught in details of his room.

And that was something else. His newly written subroutine had been helpful while dealing with Fajo, but now it was constantly providing useless information masking it as significant in a way that was rather distracting. And Data was somehow unable to quit it.

They certainly had a lot of work ahead of them, but he was confident. Up to now Geordi had always found a solution, he was a very capable engineer with a vast knowledge on cybernetics in general and on Data in particular.

For the most part Geordi had just listened when Data had provided his story and had sometimes muttered things under his breath, but now and then, when Data got stuck in-between his bodily malfunctions, he had cautiously asked a question or made an assumption. And he had mostly been correct.

The engineer had asked in detail about certain changes Data had decided to execute on his systems, and he had taken great interest in the conflicts Data had observed between his competing programmes.

Geordi was already onto something. He would help him.

After 1.4 minutes Geordi finally wiped his eyes, blew his nose and put on his VISOR again. He faced Data, seeming weary.

„Data,“ he said quietly. „Most people need years to come to peace with what you experienced, some never do. You are my friend, and I cry, yes, because I worry about you. He hurt you and I wasn’t there and I just… I should have been…“ his voice trailed off and he breathed shakily.

Data tilted his head, processing.

„Geordi, you do not have to worry. I am incapable of being hurt. I do not feel.“

Another ominous crack.

He sensed an irritating power drain and experienced himself as somehow empty and hollow inside as he continued, with the words tumbling out of his mouth, „Geordi, I am only an android.“

Geordi let out a ragged sound and stared at him, then whispered, „No Data, no, you’re not. I mean, yes, you are an android, but you are the most beautiful one I have ever seen. You don’t deserve this.“

His left hand was shaking as he awkwardly placed it on the table between them, reaching out to Data.

„Can I - is it okay to hold you? Give you a hug?“

„A hug, now? Why?“

Data accessed his files on non-linguistic human behaviour.

„A way of expressing affection and/or comforting someone. I do not need to be com-„ he paused, looking at Geordi, „yes. It is - okay - to give me a hug“ and he abruptly opened his arms. Which startled Spot, who complained softly and stretched out of his lap, curling up next to his thigh. Geordi went around the table, sat down on his other side and took him in his grip, gently but firmly squeezing his body.

And suddenly there was no control left over his upper extremities. Data’s arms went limp and fell to his sides, his head snapped helplessly, and all he could do was concentrate on overriding the images of Fajo, clasping his torso, Fajo’s hands examining his bioplast, Fajo’s smell, the pressure and wetness of his tongue, Fajo, licking over his face.

His programmes seemed to misunderstand the source of the sensory input.

But that was not quite the fact, since now and to Data’s utmost horror, his memory files started to replay not only images but the whole scene in his head, his mouth opened and he gave a perfect imitation of his captor’s malicious whispering voice, “My sweet toy, my sweet broken toy.”

“No,” Data begged, trying to shut down those files again, “no.”

And then Geordi started to talk in a low, soothing voice and Data wrapped his mind around the words, clinging to them, drowning.

„Don’t listen to him, don’t believe what he told you. Data, you’re wonderful. He hurt you, he damaged you in so many ways, but he’s not here and it is okay to be hurt. I noticed how you flinched when I touched you in the lab, how you just now fight. I’ve seen how you had to look away, had to go away when the situation seemed frightening. I notice how your shoulder twitches and how you hold your wrist. I notice you. You’re severely out of alignment, and it’s okay, Data, it’s okay. Listen, whatever malfunction is troubling you, it is not your fault.“

Data’s sensors recorded the even strokes on his upper back and he whispered, „Geordi, it has always been my decision to overwrite my programmes. Fajo has not touched my circuitry.“

And again his memory files obviously had no problem to allow access and he was flooded with images of the various ways Fajo had succeeded to touch him.

Geordi squeezed him and cautiously caressed the back of his head, slowly decelerating the snapping that rushed through his neck servos. And he continued talking to Data in this low and calming voice that seemed to wrap itself coolly around his links, decreasing the upheaval.

„Data, it doesn’t necessarily need forceps to touch one’s circuitry. Your story makes perfect sense. The readings I got from your systems suggest that you reacted to a threatening intrusion and that your system tried to handle that intrusion the best way it could at that time. It’s not your fault Data, though Fajo did not directly tamper with your internal mechanisms. Your systems reacted to a horrible, abusive situation. But it’s not your fault.“

„I act and you react,“ Data murmured hollowly and Geordi hold him tight.

„Data,” he continued, and Data noticed him drawing a deep breath, “I fear I won’t be able to repair you.”

A thrashing of his arm.

Spot jumped off the sofa.

His brain provided the number of leafs on his potted plant.

“I just can’t make you whole again using merely some inducer or something after what you experienced with Fajo. You’re damaged beyond that, Data.“

Accompanied by that nerve-racking humming sound.

Data despised himself for not working inside normal parameters. His temperature control units forced him to breath rapidly and his head would not stop snapping. He drew his attention to the pressure on his back and sides caused by Geordi’s arms, the impact of his body, the heaviness and warmth his front sensors recorded. He saved the sensation for later use, he was sure it would be helpful. His chest produced a series of loud cracks and one of his despicable memory files made him mouth a brittle sob.

Geordi hold his neck.

“Data,” he said gently. “Believe me, you’re an android, and you’re seriously hurt, and this is the result.”

Data noticed him swallowing, and wetness on his bioplast where his friend’s face was.

“This is beyond my abilities, Data. Some things cannot be fixed,” Geordi jaggedly whispered, stroking his neck, “some things just cannot be fixed.”


	15. Chapter 15

They were docked to attend the trial against Kivas Fajo, where Data had given testimony.

Geordi himself as the repairing engineer, as well as Commander Riker, O’Brien, Counsellor Troi and Dr Crusher had been asked to share evidence.

Varria, the merchant’s former partner, gave valuable information as an eyewitness to many of Fajo’s assaults on Data. Her statement would be beneficial to her since she also had to account for shocking Data into unconsciousness to kidnap him in the first place.

Fajo had been an unperturbed arsehole, first denying everything, but later openly revelling in Data’s recapitulations.

His side of the story was teeth-grittingly hard to hear. He stuck to his argument that Data was a commodity and hence it had been his right to use the android as he wished. It might have been not okay to steal him, but he would not accept charges on the basis of Data’s personal rights. He rambled endlessly about how Data was simply a machine - albeit a sophisticated one - and how machines were made to serve their creators. And all the time Data sat there expressionlessly on the opposite side of the room and was forced to listen to his kidnapper humiliating him again and again. Fajo did not go too deep into the details though, maybe he wasn’t so sure of his position after all.

Geordi felt nothing but revulsion towards him. Experiencing the trader mood-swinging through the hearing, he understood how that man had been able to be the most harmful and disadvantaging opponent to Data. Geordi - as a feeling human being - perceived Fajo as false, deceitful, and absolutely not readable. Giving the most cruel account of his actions with a sugar sweet innocent smile. No wonder Data’s programmes had simply collapsed while trying to classify the man’s behaviour.

When Data was finally called to give evidence as the main injured party Geordi felt the deep wish to be somewhere else. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to witness his friend sitting there and telling all those people what Fajo had done to him.

But since he was Data, and being accurate was his essence, he gave testimony in agonising detail, and it was horrible. The audience was silent as space, listening to Data’s level voice with shattered faces. The contrast between his account, delivered unemotional and calm as ever, and his body wildly acting out the intrusions with those jerks and thrashes was crass and heartbreaking to witness.

Geordi threw a glance at the counsellor. Up to now they had been the only ones Data had talked to in-depth. The senior staff knew that Data had been seriously tortured and abused, but to hear it from him in such particularity and to see the consequences written into his body - literally - took a visible toll. The captain continually wiped his hands over his face, looking ten years older and on the brink of tears. In Worf’s gaze was thunder, he was barely managing to stay put. Riker’s jaw muscles were grinding and there were deep shadows around his eyes. And Dr Crusher was furiously clenching a PADD, time and again typing violently into it.

Geordi looked at Deanna again and felt a small wave of reassurance bathing his heart as she nodded sternly towards him.

Fajo, on the other hand, seemed to increasingly enjoy Data’s statement. He fidgeted on his chair, smiled and gave Data dirty looks. When Data came to the part where he had knelt between his captor’s legs and how he had been grabbed and forced to pleasure him, Fajo seriously had the nerve to click his tongue at him.

Geordi really didn’t understand the man, was he that sure of himself?

Fajo was of course reprimanded for his action and they had a short adjournment to give Data time to cool down a bit.

On the whole Data was admirable. He retained his composure even as he was gently asked to present the mark on his wrist. He finished his statement without major malfunctions and never lost the calmness he was carrying.

Geordi was unbelievably proud of him.

In the end it was decided that the verdict was to be delivered in two days and the audience quietly left the room. 

Geordi went over to Data to accompany him back to the ship.

They were just about to leave when Fajo - accompanied by two unimpressed security officers - suddenly turned around to look at Data and condescendingly said, “Don’t count me out too quickly. I had you in my collection once. I can have you there again.” 

And that was the moment when Data snapped, the shock jolting through his body and arm literally ripping him off his feet and sending him onto the floor.

Geordi heard himself shouting at Fajo at the top of his lungs and he realised he was being held by security personnel.

Fajo didn’t even seem to notice him, he just looked down at Data who was paralysed and staring at him, panic rippling over his features.

And Fajo smiled and quietly spoke to him with a voice that scratched over ice.

“Good, android. You know I love to see you like that… Always keep me in good memory, my little broken toy.”

He turned and let the security officers escort him out.

It had all happened too fast.

* * *

Data sat in his quarters and stared at the door.

His positronic flow seemed to be thick, viscous, every process slow and erring as time stretched.

“Good, android.”

He stroked the fabric of the sofa.

“You know I love to see you like that.”

He put his hand on his thigh and languidly followed the incoming information his pressure sensors were providing.

“Always keep me in good memory.”

His attention found a hold on the sleeping Spot and followed her breath, measuring the intervals in which her fur rose and fell.

Of course he would. How could he not? He would be able to replay every second of it. For the rest of his life.

“My little broken toy.”

* * *

Geordi’s short late shift had just ended and he was on his way to his quarters, looking forward to listening to a guitar artist from the 22nd century he’d just recently discovered in the music banks. He had a fierce headache and was yearning to take off the VISOR.

It had been a shitty day, really. He was still shaken by the events during and especially after the hearing.

But in two days they would be off of this damned station with its damned trial. And without Fajo on the _Enterprise_ Data would perhaps have an honest chance to recover some more and perhaps even get back to work.

He was off duty at the moment. Everything else had proven to be a bad idea.

First the captain had tried to let him work part-time. In the beginning they were able to handle the change in Data’s behaviour. He sometimes had to suddenly leave his post, clutching his wrist, neck twitching. On other occasions he involuntarily dropped out of conversations because one of his programmes suddenly decided to play _Aktuh and Melota_.

But then Data’d had one of these - flashbacks? - while sitting at the helm, providing the whole bridge crew with a detailed performance of Fajo probing his mouth.

It had been obscene and it had been gut-wrenching and it had made Geordi want to run to the brig and fucking kill that man who had destroyed Data, his best friend, who had always shone so bright.

And that had also been the moment when the captain had decided to relieve Data from duty for the time being.

His system was protecting itself. That was at least the most reasonable explanation Data and Geordi had come up with. One of the more unnerving impairments Data had brought back with him from Fajo’s ship was his inability to set back his systems to the state of trust suitable to his surroundings on the _Enterprise_. He still was in a constant state of alarm which sometimes seriously impeded interactions on board. Certain memory files that seemed to be a threat to his systemic integrity - or what was left of it - were encrypted and Data didn’t possess the key. Unfortunately the block was not leakproof and from time to time those memory files were suddenly and randomly accessed, causing cascade failures and thoroughly incapacitating him.

Had it not been such a grave situation, it would have made for fascinating research.

And that was it so far, Geordi had done all the repairing he had been capable of. The rest of the malfunctions… they just didn’t know, they had to see what would happen in the future.

So now Data had a lot of spare time, hard to bear for the android who loved to work. He often visited engineering briefly to take a breath and share a few words. They also spent much of Geordi’s free time together and Geordi felt highly honoured that his friend had chosen him to turn to for help and reassurance.

Data had started to visit Counsellor Troi on a regular basis, trying to adjust to his lingering malfunctions with her help. Troi had encouraged him to try to put his thoughts into paintings and he had produced a stunning replica of a Dalí. She had also come up with the idea to wear something that would hide the catalogue number Data didn’t want to see. So he replicated a fashionable golden wrist sleeve, an exception to uniform code was noted and everybody had complimented him on his taste. 

People were caring and understanding and excused his minor system breakdowns.

Still, they had to accept that their Second Officer was permanently and profoundly damaged.

Data seemed to cope slowly and with a lot of patience but today had most certainly been a severe setback. Geordi had already rescheduled the next day to make room for a thorough check-up and - presumably - some repairs.

He was just entering his quarters when Data called him, „Data to Commander La Forge.“

Geordi pressed his combadge, „Data, I was just thinking of you. You okay?“

Silence, then: „Geordi, would you mind visiting me in my quarters? I seem to… require a hug.“

Geordi felt his eyes burn and his face broke into a sad little smile as he turned around. „No, Data, I wouldn’t mind.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I watched the episode I was surprised by how much feeling Data displayed in his interactions with Kivas Fajo. The scene where Fajo destroys Data’s uniform, commenting that he’d like to see him naked, was the moment in which I decided to, well, join fandom and write a darker version of it, that would give credit to the sheer viciousness of the trader.  
> I think these two are great opponents with a lot of potential and I don’t really understand why there’s so little fiction on them. So if you want to make someone really happy, go and write some!
> 
> I was very much interested in how Data would experience a hopeless, desperate and cruel situation, how that would be different from the way he feels with his emotion chip or the way his humanoid friends experience emotions, and how he as a machine would break slowly under pressure.  
> I’m convinced that Data is quite able to feel, just in a different way.
> 
> So this is the outcome. Quite a long story about hurt machines and positronic trauma.
> 
> Thank you all for reading it and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
